Arthur gritted his teeth for a moment before he was finally forced to spit. He hated spitting, it was so coarse and vulgar, but the air around him was so think with gunpowder that he was sure he'd never get the taste of sulfur out of his mouth again. It was a foul, acrid flavor, and it brought back memories that he didn't care to relive at any moment, let alone in the middle of a war. At least the small sacrifice to his gentility cleared the taste momentarily from his tongue.
Looking up, England was disturbed to notice the air was thick with smoke. Squinting, his sharp, green eyes peered out from where he was hunkered down under the hail storm of German bullets, the snow on the Russian front gray and mottled with blood.
From his position, the nation could see the bodies of the fallen laying on the ground, a mixture of allies : British, American, French, and Russian solders. He could also see the bodies of the the axis solders.
Laid together, in a heap and finally at peace, brothers once more in death.
It was this, that reminded him that he had passed France just a while back.
The frog bastard was doing his best to help out with the movement, something that Arthur had to give him credit for, no matter how much that annoyed him. He had also told him that he had heard that Alfred was somewhere closer to the enemy line, which worried, but didn't surprise England.
Eventually, Arthur had decided that he was going to go after the impulsive American.
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Hi to all of the old readers who came here after finishing, 'Drowning In Trouble' (and welcome to all the new viewers.) I hope you enjoy the sequel as well as you did the first part. :)