Chapter II

Pussy cat, pussy cat
Where have you been?
I've been to London
To look at the Queen

Darkness. Silence. A tingling feeling went through her body. Her head ached. Everything ached. She tried moving her hand, opening her eyes. She felt very slight, weak movement. Her eyelids slowly opened. Her view was a little blurry, but it got sharper again. She could tell she was lying on the ground.

England couldn't remember very well where she was. It seemed like she hadn't been lying here for too long. It was early evening. Something felt odd about her body. She slowly tried to move more. Carefully she lifted her head from the ground. She tried to push herself up, but was surprised to find out that she didn't get very far. She swore she was supporting herself on her fully stretched arms, but she was still so close to the ground. Did she shrink? The whole world seemed so big. When she tried to stand on her legs, she stumbled and fell. It wasn't really painful since she had been barely a feet above the ground. Feeling slightly annoyed, she looked at her body.

Oh bloody hell no, she wanted to say, but all that came out was a little, innocent, "Meow."

She wasn't a cat. This was not right. She was dreaming. Had she accidentally used any drugs? Had anyone drugged her? Was she hallucinating? Maybe she wasn't even awake, and this was all a nightmare. She tried to stand up, coordinating her legs differently now. She wobbled a bit, but managed to stand. This was horrible, she realised. How the hell was she supposed to function like this? How the hell did she even turn into a cat? The answer pierced her mind. The fairies. When she became human again, they were going to pay so hard for this. She hoped it was a temporary spell, but the clearer her thoughts and memories became, the more she could feel it was a long-lasting thing. This would take weeks, if not months. A shiver ran over her spine. How would she continue living?

The pile of clothes she was standing on were her clothes, but when she looked around, she couldn't see her purse. She mentally cursed thieves, herself, and fairies. She couldn't even go home anymore. She didn't have the keys, and wasn't like she would be able to open a door anyway.

She realised that she didn't have many options left. One of the possibilities was that she would have to spend the coming few weeks or months outside, probably hungry, and in the cold of the coming winter weather. She could also try to convince some passer-by to keep her, and stay with a stranger until she'd transform back into a human. This didn't sound like a very good idea to her though, since it was dangerous to stay with strangers, and it would also be dangerous if she'd transform back into her original form, in front of humans. There's no reasonable explanation for a cat transforming into a human. She'd probably have to kill them or something.

There were still a few nations in London, on the other hand. If she could stay with one of them, maybe she'd even be able to show them who she actually was. It'd be embarrassing, but safe. Even if they did not know, they'd most likely be her best chance for a safe and comfortable survival. Sadly enough, that was also the least possible to happen.

England started to move forward. Even though this would be another tricky adventure, she was planning to go through the city, checking all kinds of places where she'd expect the other nations to be. She was still walking a bit wobbly, but was ready to get somewhere. Luckily she could adjust rather quickly to her new body. Like this, she started to make her way through the city.

She had passed the McDonald's, some other fast food restaurants, as well as fancier restaurants, and had eventually finished somewhere on the endless streets that were decorated with discotheques and clubs. She had hoped to see America, Canada, even France would be fine, as long as some nation would be willing to take her. England tried not to think about what life would be like as the pet of one of them. There didn't seem to be anything positive about that, except if you purely looked at the facts that it'd be the safest. Canada wouldn't even be so bad, but he had a polar bear. That thing would eat her. She sat on the corner of a busy street, hiding herself a little from the many strangers. She had gotten dirty, and a car had nearly hit her. If just some nations would show up, that'd make her very happy.

As if some power from above pitied her and took compassion, her wish was granted. The laughter of a few nations tickled the air. She turned around. There was no way she would be mistaken. She had heard their annoying laughs for centuries; it had to be them.

"Kesesese! It'll be awesome!"

"Mais oui, and with a bit of luck we'll have some plaisanterie as well, ohonhonhon~"

"What do you mean, with a bit of luck? I have the power of my awesome! I don't need luck!"

"Like last time, fusososo~"

"Ouais, that was very awesome!"

"Shut up! That was not my fault!"

England almost jumped from happiness. She quickly slalomed her way through all the people, until she reached them. She grabbed the leg of whoever was closest to her.

"Eh? C'est quoi ça?" France mused as he looked down.

He wrinkled his face in disgust, and tried to shake her of. She let go, and looked up. She desperately wanted to say something, but only meowed. France huffed, and walked on. Prussia laughed, and made some silly comment she couldn't understand properly. She quickly went to Spain, and poked him with her paw.

"Gato malo, don't do that, little kitty," Spain said, wagging his finger, as if that would make him look frightening enough to make her listen.

She meowed again, pleading, hoping she'd look somewhat cute. She actually hadn't seen herself at all, except for her paws. She knew she was dirty too, though Spain didn't seem affected by her at all. Last try. She went to Gilbert, poking his leg as well. His red orbs looked down upon her. He didn't even look disgusted with her. She knew he could be rough, but he liked animals.

"Attention, Gilbert! Le chat probably wants your precious little bird. He looks hungry", France said.

England scowled at Françis when she saw Prussia step back. The little bird on his shoulder tweeted happily.

"Dumme Katze," Gilbert said, and he turned around to go away.

No, they couldn't go away! They couldn't leave her like this, right? They had to turn around and take her with them. Who knows what would happen otherwise? She tried following them. France turned around with annoyance in his clear blue eyes. "That's it! Go away! Stop stalking us! Kssht!"

Antonio tugged France's sleeve, "Don't bother the cat, he can't enter the clubs anyway, sì?"

They quickly continued walking, and entered some club. She tried to sneak in. They wouldn't get rid of her that easily. As she subtly tried to make her way in, she was unpleasantly surprised when something grabbed her. A big, unfriendly hand jerked her off the ground, and kicked her back to the opening of the club. The security guard hit her pretty hard, and she quickly stumbled away. That had hurt, a lot. She shivered. It was cold. When looking up at the sky, she saw it was already late. She sighed, and wobbled to somewhere else. She was wobbling peacefully, when two bright lightly suddenly shone upon her.

Startled, she looked aside. She heard the noise of squealing brakes, as the vehicle tried to stop. Her heart skipped a beat. The moment after that she tried to run. The car was too close. She stopped, almost crashing into the front tire. She felt the harsh, prickly pain tearing through her left, front paw. The car finally stopped moving. Her heart still beat like crazy. She ran away, limping because of her aching paw.

She trembled. That was too close. Never again would she cross a street like that. Her paw sent waves of pain through her body. She was afraid it would fall off. There was a night store with not too many people passing by. She sat down near it, and tried to calm herself down. She shot a fearful glance at her paw. The pain was burning terribly. It was bleeding, and swollen. This definitely wasn't very healthy, and this was just her first day as a cat. She sighed, and lay down. The moon peeked through some clouds. At least it wasn't raining. Then again, it was getting really cold. In the middle of the crowd, it had been warmer. She closed her eyes, and tried to forget the pain, cold, hunger, discomfort and others. Sooner or later everything would go back to normal, she promised herself.

Translations:

French
Mais oui = But yes (but of course)
Plaisanterie = Fun
Ouais = Yeah (slang/dialect alike)
C'est quoi ça? = What's that?
Le chat = The cat

Spanish
Gato malo = Bad cat

German
Dumme Katze = Stupid cat

So, that was chapter two. It's longer, and I hope it pleases you. Clever humans turn magnificent cats, but England still has to firgure out how the whole being-a-cat-thing works. Wish her good luck, she'll need it!
How was the Bad Touch Trio? They don't hate cats, but if you're going to party, you don't want to be othered by a stray cat, hm? And poor little England didn't notice the car.

Review~