The branches of the trees and bushes scraped against his skin, painfully cutting him and leaving small droplets of blood trailing, but he paid no notice.
The blond haired man continued running through the dark forest, uncaring of the darkness of night nor the danger of being alone in the wilderness. He finally stopped running when he reached a clearing with a small pool and a rock just hanging over it. He padded over to the rock and collapsed on top of it, taking a shuddering breath as he took in his reflection.
"Their right, I am just a worthless excuse of a country," he said to the water bitterly.
He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them, his emerald eyes watching the water shimmer in the moonlight.
"England!" A red haired man screamed.
"ENGLAND!"
"PLEASE! COME HOME!"
"It's no use, we can't find him anywhere," a ginger haired slightly shorter man whispered in despair.
"No, we have to find him!" The red head argued.
"Scotland, Ireland's right, we won't be able to find him in this darkness," Northern Ireland, the smallest of the four there with slightly lighter hair then Ireland backed his brother up.
"I don't care! It's our fault he's out there on his own," Scotland shouted.
"Scoty's right, it's our fault he's out here. So we must find him," a dark haired man padded over to them from where he was petting a sheep.
"I feel so bad, he's our little brother," Ireland whispered.
"We'll find the wee lad, we 'ave ta," Scotland bit his lip, scanning the forest.
England still sat on the rock, ignoring the stirring wildlife around him as the sun rose from behind the trees.
"ENGLAND!"
"Scotland?" He whispered, letting a hand drop to his side to grip the rock tightly.
"ENGLAND! PLEASE ANSWER US!"
"Ireland? Northern Ireland?"
"WE'RE SORRY LITTLE BROTHER!" Wales's voice sounded not far from him.
He heard some rustling from some bushes and he turned his head to see Wales stumble out of the foliage.
"England!" He cried, running forward to his little brother.
England flinched back, a low whine forming in the back of his throat as he stared at Wales wearily.
"I FOUND HIM!" Wales shouted suddenly.
England let out a yelp of surprise and tumbled off the rock and into the small pool with a splash.
"Oh dear," Wales sighed, grabbing England's hands and pulling him from the water and holding him close.
England fought against him then gave up, letting his darker haired brother warm his shivering body.
"England! Thank God ye okay!"
"We didn't mean it England, we're feckers, the lot of us. But we didn't mean it. We were angry at that pile of dung France and took it out on you," Ireland explained miserably.
England took them all in, all four of his older brothers surrounding him, each supporting a remorseful look on his face.
"You're not a useless excuse of a country, you're the British Empire, there aren't many who can defeat you," Scotland said softly.
England bit his lip as he moved his eyes over all four of them. A small smile spread across his face and he used his free hand to tug Scotland forward and into the sort of hug he and Wales were in, the other two grinned and joined them.
"We're sorry," Scotland whispered in the younger brothers ear.
"I forgive you guys," England murmured, resting his shoulder on Scotland's shoulder.
A happy sigh escaped him and he closed his eyes, tightly wrapped in his four brothers arms, he couldn't be happier.