Dancing bears, painted wings
Things I almost remember
And a song someone sings
Once upon a December
Someone holds me safe and warm
Horses prance through a silver storm
Figures dancing gracefully
Across my memory
Far away, long ago
Glowing dim as an ember
Things my heart used to know
Things it yearns to remember
And a song someone sings
Once upon a December
Russia stood in the cold winter air, alone and isolated. The icy ground of his home country was usually hard to stand on for him, but he had grown used to it this winter. His eyes were set, and his nose flared red from the wind hitting it. His scarf was wrapped tightly around his neck, and his hands were by his sides.
It was not pleasant, but it was normal, and it was somewhat relaxing. Unlike some of the other countries he'd visited recently as part of the celebrations.
As he looked far away into the horizon at the slowly rising sun, he thought of his friends, his allies. They were there for him, and he was thankful for that. They would always be there to lighten him up, always ready to fight if needs be, always ready to annoy him if they wanted a challenge. He didn't know what he'd do without them- America, China, France and England. And the Axis, they helped his strength- for little Japan and strong Germany and the weak, the crying, the dependant Italy, waving his flag about, he was thankful.
He heard the small chirp of a little bird, and it reminded him of the hoarse cries of the Baltics. He was thankful for them, as well. They were underlings, almost- being changed for the good by their fear of him. It seemed as if they did it on instinct most of the time, but recently he'd noticed them a little reluctant to run away. He smiled. Good. They were getting stronger by the minute, much more strong-willed. Like him, a little.
And of course, as he saw the pale fading face of the moon, he thought of his sisters, his beautiful sisters, and his closest friends. For all the times Ukraine had cried alone, and for the times she had come rushing to his arms; for all the times Belarus had followed him and never given up; for the times he had held hands with them when they were but children, when they had no grudges, no disputes; for the peaceful, loving times, he was truly thankful.
Russia began to walk. Where to? He didn't know, himself. But all he knew was a question, a question ringing in his head, a question he needed to answer.
So why are they not here?
Hello there! :D
I must apologize for me not posting once again. Sorry guys :(
Here's my angsty Russia chapter! I heard this song on my IPod, and it fits him perfectly in this kind of situation- not to mention the movie is Anastasia. It's not a Christmas carol, but it's got December and snow in it, so... :P
See you all tomorrow, and have a great day! :D
