Liet sat underneath the tree, its wide, rough trunk providing shelter from the brisk arctic winds. The snow didn't sting his face as much here, and it was almost warm. What a lucky find!

Settling down into the snow, he crossed his arms over his chest to ward off the chill and peered around with squinting eyes. It was so bright: all the snow created a canvas of silence, white and nothingness. Liet couldn't even tell where the sky stopped and the ground began. The only splash of color, if you could call it that, was his blackish, bare tree.

Liet leaned his head backwards, staring up into winding branches. They reached skyward, as if yearning to be a part of whatever lay beyond the colorless, empty wasteland. It made Liet feel oddly sad. The poor thing, stranded alone and cold in such a desolate place. No wonder why the tree was so barren.

The ridiculous, pitying thoughts whirled sluggishly around in Liet's head, lulling him into a daze. His eyelids sagged low and he yawned, snuggling closer into the tree and its warm bark. He felt heavy and peaceful and began to drift away…

Feeling something move underneath him, Liet snapped back to reality. Yes, something was definitely wriggling in the snow below. He spun away from his cozy spot and examined the ground, resting on his hands and knees. There was a deep rumbling sound, like something was digging its way up from the earth. His anxiety getting the best of him, Liet decided to run.

He leapt to his feet and began to run from the tree. He wasn't sure what made him so nervous about it, but the feeling in his gut told him that this was no longer a safe place to hide from the cold.

He pumped his arms and legs, flying through the white, ignoring as snow and ice cut at his face. He was putting an impressive amount of space between him and the great black tree, but he could still hear it; the rumbling was still there, getting louder the more he ran.

Without warning, Liet fell flat on his face. He cried out in alarm and pain. He felt something in his nose snap and red poured from his nostrils. The blood was sickeningly sticky and hot on his face, and it took him a moment to blink away the stars in his eyes. When he regained his vision, Liet pushed up from the ground to turn and look down at his feet. There, curling painfully around his ankle, was a thick black root. Even as Liet jerked away in horror, the thing crept up his leg, keeping a tight hold on him.

The Baltic began to panic, his breath coming in sharp gasps as he tried to pull away. It made no difference; his leg didn't budge and all Liet managed to do was hurt his knee. The root was inching up his thigh now, spiraling around slowly and menacingly. Unrelenting.

Liet strained with all his might, attempting to crawl forward through the snow, his leg pulled straight out behind him. He groaned with the effort and tears sprung up in his eyes from the pain and fear. What was happening? Why couldn't he just crawl out of its grasp? What was it doing? What was it going to do with him?

Liet's hands dug into the snow painfully, the top layer of ice cutting into his fingers and making them bleed. The cold and the pain made his hands feel as if they were on fire, any scratch like a needle on his reddening skin. He could feel the root pulling him back slowly towards the tree, making him struggle more. But he could tell it was useless; he could feel himself moving and he saw the streaks of blood left in the snow from his fingers as he was dragged despite his efforts.

No. I don't want this… Let me go! I don't want to be trapped!

Liet's whole body was wracked with sobs, the tears falling thick and fast now. He was terrified, but there was nothing he could do, no one to help him. And so, he was pulled back to the tree, its warmth now eerie rather than comforting. More roots, seemingly awaiting his capture, wrapped around him and secured him to the trunk. They wound tightly around his legs, his hips, his chest, his neck…

The last thing he saw was the red streak of his blood in the snow before the roots crept over his eyes. Everything went dark, and Lithuania was gone.

...

So. Did you guys get the Russia metaphor? XP

I tried to make the tree seem as much like Russia as I could. It's lonely, trapped in a cold, quiet place all by itself. It doesn't want to be lonely anymore, but goes about solving that issue in less-than-steller ways. Poor Liet, Da?

Liet needs more love. He's so cute :3

If you guys liked this, I have more... sort of. I was writing a LietRus-ISH fic, but I dunno if I want to put it up. This was definately the best chapter in it so far.

Please review! I'd really appreciate it! :D