Russia had to admit, it was a lot colder here than in his home. Still, that didn't deter him. "We are getting close, da?" He said to himself. Russia gave a smile and looked into the distance. The land ahead was pure white, whiter than the clouds in the sky.
"Captain!" yelled a man, as he came to a stop next to Russia. "We're turning back. There seems to be a storm coming. A very bad one." Russia frowned. At least they had seen it. He was about to head back, into the Captain's quarters, when something caught his eye. There was a patch of snow and ice that didn't seem right. Russia kept staring at it, and a shape formed in the ice. A slender woman, staring back at the ship. Now Russia knew why he hadn't seen her at first. Her long, straight hair was as white as the ice around her. She had pale, porcelain skin, and she wore a short, simple, white dress. Was she not cold? Her impassive, icy blue eyes stared at Russia, burning right through him, as if she could see through his very soul. The ship moved farther away, the woman never taking her eyes off of Russia. He stared, as if in a trance. Then the woman blinked, and Russia's trance was broken. She was gone, as if the snow and ice had swallowed her up. Russia looked around, but found no sign of her.
He smiled and whispered, "One day, you will become part of Mother Russia, da?"
Snow was blowing everywhere. Cold winds slicing through America's bomber jacket. None of what he was wearing was helping at all. He turned to the crewmember standing not too far from him.
"L-let's g-go back." America stuttered. The first mate nodded and called to a few others, telling them to turn the ship around. America expected more of this new land. It was just barren and not fun at all. It was a boring expedition, and a waste of time. America pouted, sneezed, and rested his chin on top of the railing. Looking back at the barren land, he saw her. A girl, with pure white hair, her back turned to them, walking with a baby seal in her arms. 'Damn,'America thought, 'Isn't she cold? She's got mad skills. Not as much as me, though. Maybe I should go save her. Here I come, America the hero!' He struck a heroic pose, and she turned towards his ship. Her face was emotionless, and she took one good look at America. He froze, staring back at her. Her icy eyes were hypnotizing, and then, in the blink of an eye, she was gone. America leaned over the railing and looked closely, trying to find her again. He almost fell into the freezing ocean.
"No worries," America whispered to himself. "I'll save you, when I come back!"