So basically, this fic is what I think happened with the New world. Cuz we all know native americans DID NOT look anything like colonial!america, and that england wasn't the first one to come to the new world. also, we also kno that, well the english weren't really well-recieved by the natives...so yea. this is all in my head, so feel completely free to disagree, and if you do, plz tell me what you think. This fic is meant to b taken srsly...meaning it will not b having the usual hetalia shenanigans going on.
Gaho belongs to me. nobody else.
Prolouge
The woman crouched behind the bushes, her dark eyes narrowing as she honed in on her prey. Close, closer…there! She let the arrow fly and felt a strange satisfaction as she saw it pierce the rabbit and heard the animal giving a strangled cry as it dropped to the ground, dead. There would be food tonight, she thought, relieved. She stepped into the clearing, claimed her prize, and returned to her solitary fire to clean and cook her meal.
It wasn't unusual for Gaho to spend days, even weeks alone. She lived the life of the nomad, traveling from tribe to tribe, visiting her people. Though she had no home, her people knew her and recognized her the second they saw her figure approaching. There would be a cry, and the whole tribe would be alerted. They would tumble forward in their eagerness to greet her, and a giant feast would be held in her honor. She was the land, their livelihood, their home. They saw her as such, realized her importance, and recognized her as a God. She loved her people, and they her.
However, her lands were vast and her people scattered. She never saw the same person twice. By the time she had reached a village she had once traveled on her previous circuit, the people that had been there last would be long dead. It was strange really, the concept of death…she didn't understand it, and was somewhat jealous of her people for their ability to do what she could not. She had lived for a long time and seen many moons come and go. Her memory extended back to the days where man hunted the woolly mammoth and the Earth was covered in ice and snow. Though much had changed since those years, the basic lifestyle had not. Her people were hunters and gathers, much like their ancestors before. Some were nomads, like herself, others constructed sturdy homes of clay and sticks and from those, little hamlets sprung up.
Change was unusual. Her people were content with what they had, and though warring between tribes was common, the victor was usually chosen based on the strength of the warriors, not the innovation of technology. Whenever something did change, it would take decades, even centuries for the change to spread across the land, usually by way of mouth. Life existed as it had for centuries, her people lived like their predecessors from Asia had, content with what they had and unmotivated to seek a different life from the one they were so comfortable with.
Thus was the life of the land that would someday go by the name of America.
ok...it's short, but so far it's just the prolouge...and no, this isn't some fic where native!america is a girl, and then some strange shit happens and america somehow becomes a boy. Gaho and Alfred are two different people...in a way. (hint. look up the meaning of the name Gaho)
anyways, plz give me feedback. since this idea is completely my own, i'd liek to kno what other ppl think about it.