She Who Was Born Of Land was always alone.
She didn't blame this on anyone else but herself. She knew about others like her. She even had a brother that lived farther south. It just took a long time to reach any other civilizations. She didn't like that. She wanted to stay with her people and protect them from themselves. She wanted to end the fighting between different tribes and have them be at peace. But more than anything, she wanted to watch the children grow up and teach them how to survive in this harsh world.
Her people were her life, and so she would protect them, even if that meant staying here.
She Who Was Born Of Land only met one person who was like her, other than her brother. He was called Scandinavia, and he came for conquest. She Who Was Born Of Land knew this, but she was still happy to meet someone like her. She remembered talking to him, trying to teach him the ways of the land so he would come back. He didn't though. It could have been because he landed in the Arctic region instead of the more hospitable parts of the Americas.
She felt a pain in her gut and groaned. Her people were at war again. She hated this because it was always her that felt the pain the most. She had tried to explain to the tribes that she visited that, as the land, it hurt her the most when they were quarreling. She was the one who went through the pain when arrows shot across the sky and a man's skull was crushed with a tomahawk.
The pain got to be too much, and she leaned against a tree. She would have to stay the night here until she got over the pain. She pulled out a blanket and wrapped it around her. She could fall asleep with just that, without building any type of home. She leaned against the tree and her eyes drooped. It would be easy to fall asleep, and she did.
She woke to the sound of something rustling through her bag. She Who Was Born Of Land shot up and grabbed the perpetrator by the hair.
"What do you think you are doing?" she hissed.
A pale boy stood there, trembling. "I-I-I-I-"
"Don't worry! We are here to save you!"
Another pale boy rushed out of the bushes, with a darker boy running behind him.
"Get your hands off my brother, evil villain!" he yelled, holding up a stick. The darker boy had a stick in his hand also, but he looked more unsure than anything.
She Who Was Born Of Land stood up, her hand still on the boy. "I will ask you one more time, what do you think you were doing going through my bag?"
"We were hungry," the darker boy finally said. "We thought you had food."
She glared at the three, releasing the boy now. "If you asked, I might have given you some," she said, "but with that behavior, I might as well let you starve."
The boys dropped the sticks and attached themselves to her legs. "Please, please, please, give us some food," said the pale one. "We haven't eaten in days!"
The maternal side of her chuckled. "Alright, alright, I'll give you some food. But in exchange, you have to tell me where you're from."
The boys let go of her legs and held out their hands eagerly. She Who Was Born Of Land pulled out some pieces of jerky and berries. The quiet boy was almost forgottten, if he wouldn't of pulled on her sleeve.
The boy sat down in front of her, shoveling the food in their mouths. It was true that they haven't eaten in a long time. She could see their ribcage through their shirts and noticed the way they trembled.
"Don't eat so fast," she said, hitting the one who was eating the fastest on the head. "You'll throw it up and I'm not about to waste my food on a couple of brats."
The one who ate the fastest stuck his tongue out at her. The other two ate more slowly, taking the time to actually appreciate the food instead of shoveling it down. She waited until everyone was finished before asking questions.
"Who are you all?" she asked.
"I'm America! The hero!" the pale boy yelled. "That's Mexico and Canada. We're brothers!"
Foreign names. Did she miss a village when she traveled? There were many languages here, but she had never heard of names like that.
"What village are you from?" she asked. She would get more information that way.
"We aren't from a village," Mexico said. "We keep getting kicked out. Those two," here he points at America and Canada, "scare them."
So much for that. "Where were you born?" she asked.
"We don't know."
"Where did you come from? What direction?" she finally asked.
America pointed east, while Mexico pointed south, and Canada pointed north. She Who Was Born Of Land was about to give up. She had no idea what to do with these children.
"Um, one of the village leaders told us to find a person," Canada said. He looked down at his feet as he spoke. "He told us that we belong to the land and we were supposed to look for it."
She Who Was Born Of Land frowned. So these were her replacements. That meant she was getting old. She would check for gray hairs the next time she bathed.
"Well, I suppose you can't be on your own," she said. "I'll watch over you, as long as you three can keep up with me."
America grinned. "We can! And I'll be the hero and protect you from any bad things."
Mexico laughed. "You're scared of the dark! I'll be the one to protect her."
Canada sighed and grabbed her hand. "I'll help you with food," he said.
She Who Was Born Of Land smiled at the three boys. She was not alone any more. Her time may be ending, but now she had something to finally do. She would raise these boys and teach them the ways of the land. Then she would watch them grow and watch them leave her behind. But now, she could at least be the mother she never had. America, Canada, and Mexico, what proud nations they would become.
A/N: Thank you for reading. Originally this was to be a oneshot, but it kept getting longer and longer until I said, "Fuck it, I have another project now." Please leave a review and tell me what you think of Mexico and Native America. I plan for this to look into the childhoods of America, Canada, and Mexico until they reach their independence. So this will take a while. Please enjoy.
