Once upon a time a young man strolled through the forest. His hair was fine as gold and his eyes were like gleaming gems. The sun beamed down on the earth, the color of honey. It glistened in the green, fresh leaves of spring. A calm chill rolled in and the young man, Tino, pulled his cloak tighter around himself. Below his cloak he wore a thick cotton shirt, pants of the same material, and fur boots. He was quite warm in this condition.
In his adventure through the winding path, he came across something very strange. A white doe was standing in a patch of clear land, grazing calmly. It did not scamper off when Tino approached it. It blinked its dark eyes in his direction and, instead, walked away to another patch of grass.
"What a strange creature!" Tino though brightly, "Surely she should have been afraid! The gypsies usually pass through this part of the forest, making such a loud noise! She should be terrified!"
A twig broke under someone's foot, startling both Tino and the doe. The doe shot out of the area, passing by Tino and nearly trampling his foot in the action. Tino drew his bow and an arrow, holding it before him in defense. Though he had such soft skin and such a gentle voice, he was armed. It baffled most men who passed him. He used that to his advantage and hoped to use it again now.
"Come out!" Tino called, "Come out peacefully and I won't shoot you. There's no use in hiding anymore, I've heard you."
Nothing happened.
Tino lowered his bow a fragment.
"Hello?" He called again, now starting to feel frightened.
Another rustling of leaves and there was nothing else. No shadow foreign to the scene lay on the ground. No eyes gleamed in the foliage.
Tino felt afraid. Some spirit must have appeared before him with malign intentions. If it was a spirit with no tangible body he could not defend against it. Feeling quite hopeless, Tino began to run away. He turned and rushed straight into something hard. He fell back and gathered his bow again, pointing it directly about him. Again, nothing was there.
Tino felt a scream brew in his throat but he hushed it at once.
Instead, he timidly called again. "If you are a spirit that wishes to do me harm, at least show yourself to me!"
It was a terrible thing to say, but Tino could not think of anything better in such a panicked moment.
A whispering whirled around him, as though the trees were giggling and gossiping amongst themselves. Tino tried to listen, but he had never been good at understanding.
"Oh not again!" He cried in anguish and ran again, this time successfully and without hitting another surface.
This was the third time such an event happened. He would see some animal or shadow, always different, and then he would be confronted by a strange, ethereal appearance. Trembling with fear he stopped just short of the outer edge of the forest. "Please, if I come again and you repeat these actions…!" but Tino did not know what else to say and instead scurried off.
Up, far above the trees, was a spirit of the forest. The spirit was connected to the trees and animals. His feet were cloaked in coarse material he made from bark and leaves. His blonde hair was short and tangled with twigs. And his eyes were sorrowful, looking after Tino. If only he had the courage to speak to the stranger he had fallen in desperate love with. But he only knew how to frighten and how to force himself on others. It was a fatal character flaw that darkened his heart so.
"Next time," he repeated for the fourth time, "Next time I will speak to him!"
I do not own Hetalia
