Crystals of snow shone like pure diamonds when the bright, saffron glow from the sun finally hit the land, innocent and fresh, recently untouched by man. All around the island, nature was waking, moving, and the silent hustle and bustle of nature taking its course. Including a certain little Icelander. Normally, a child would never be up so early, but his little internal clock ran by natures time, not a regular human's, so he crawled his way out of his cocoon of animal pelts and let out a silent little yawn, rubbing his eyes. "Storebror?" He asked, glancing over at his blonde brother, who was blissfully sleeping in his own, thinner bundle of animal furs, shuddering from the lack of heat. Well, Eirikur was not going to leave him like that. No, this man had been so kind to him, enough so to prompt the little Icelander to drag the bedding he had been in over to the Norwegian, settling the brown and grey furs on top of him smiling with that every shy expression of his. "Storebror." He repeated, before running out the tent, grinning at the freshness of the new day. Puffin was probably already waiting for him.
The landscape, vast and varied, was rather a normality for little Eirikur, as he had travelled since… well, since he could walk. Now, he was making his way to a frozen over lake, where both he and his flying companion knew kept a lot of fish. Perhaps… if he caught some fish… Storebror would be happy with him! So driven by this optimistic thought, he set his plum coloured eyes on the iced over body of water before him, waving to the little puffin who had been waiting very patiently on an intrusive rock. Despite the very little social communication between the two… there was a bond. A strong one. After all, Eirikur had no parents, and Puffins had been killed by Arctic foxes… leaving them both, lost little orphans, wandering the island and taking refugee where possible. Puffin helped Eirikur find food, and Eirikur did his utmost best to protect Puffin, his best friend, of course.
It had taken him about an hour of wandering along the thick, glazed ice, but the frosty themed child finally was able to break a hole in the ice, equipped with a stick with an elongated piece of what must have been the inside of a plant tied to it, a little bit of meat from a carcass that Puffin had found, and voila, a fishing pole. Oh he was so excited, because big brother Kjell would be so proud that he got up early and caught breakfast, so excited that he wiggled his little cloth covered feet and began singing a little song to himself, about fish and puffins and elk, until a roaring voice was heard from the horizon… and it wasn't Danish. For a moment there… the child thought… Storebror... No! Storebror was never loud and angry sounding; it was probably just an animal, until it sounded again.
"Eirikur!" Now that was unmistakably Storebror, and he was not happy. "Eirikur! Get off that ice, NOW! Do you have any idea how scared I was! I thought wolves had gobbled you up, or a bear had taken you! Don't you EVER go away without telling me again! EVER!" The normally placid nation was screaming at the point, pale features gone red and eyes highly focused on the little boy out on the ice, a stark contrast to his usual state… but who could blame him? He had been so terrified that something had happened to Eirikur that something had hurt him or even killed him, and now… he was just losing his temper, releasing all the usually pent up worry in his mind.
Needless to say, Eirikur was not impressed. He was horrified to have made Storebror so angry… but it wasn't fair. Had he not come out here to get breakfast? To make Kjell ruffle his soft hair and tell him well done? Well he would take fishing over being scolded any day, so he just sat on his bottom, bottom lip trembling like the calm before the storm, his raw little hands grasping onto the stick tightly, like a modern day garden gnome. "S-Storebror isn't meant to yell… He's meant to give me cuddles and kisses…" Eirikur turned to his feathered friend, wanting someone to listen.
"Eirikur! Get over here!" The Norman demanded once more.
"No! You're scary and you shout!" Was the Icelander's reply, his expression one that defied Kjell, making immature faces at him. "I don't like you!" The boy whined even more, shuffling to the other side of the lake, being extra careful as to where he was spreading his weight, making sure not to hit a specifically thin spot. But Kjell? He just marched out onto the ice, eyes filled with worried anger. Eirikur had left him… and he had burst into everyone's tents, accusing them of harming his beloved lillebror. "Stop being so disobedient! Get back here!" Then there was the crack. Not just any crack. A deep, resounding one, almost as though it came from the inner mechanisms of the Earth itself. Foolish Kjell.
The Norwegian took a few minutes to compose himself, the red flush of upset long gone as he just… stood. The ice… one wrong move, and he was a goner. Eirikur did not have the strength to pull him out… not even with the Puffin. Speaking of which, the two of them had been staring in shocked fear for a fair amount of time, contemplating what to do. Should they go get Mathias? But what if Storebror had fallen by then? He needed to get help somehow… and the only other human assistance was that of the Viking settlers, so perhaps, if Puffin managed to get them, then Storebror could be saved! Though it was getting Eirikur nervous as to how he swayed, a few uneasy cracks surrounding his foot. With Puffin bleating off to get more help, it left just the two brothers, staring intently at the other. Each was upset, but the younger of the two was more outwardly so, sobbing quietly. "I'm sorry… please, please! I promise I won't go away without telling you! Promise! I want… cuddles…" The little boy tottered out, causing an outcry from Kjell, his body almost flailing from panic of it all. "Don't be stupid!" He cried out, amazed at how idiotic they were both being. "You can get cuddles when Storebror is on land! Go back! Eirikur!" But did the boy listen? No. He wanted, no, needed cuddles. If he didn't get cuddles, then the feeling of fear rose within him, making him wish he could scream and shriek until his body was relieved of the emotion. So, with tiny feet now next to his, and conveniently placed next to a giant crack in the solid liquid, Kjell twitched from the whole situation… he had been so… recklessly brain-dead. And now a toddler had followed him onto the thinner ice. Some role model.
"Storebror! It's that big man!" Eirikur chirped, staring behind him as the black silhouette of Puffin glided against the pale baby blue sky, and the running form of a strong built followed suit, calling out to the unimpressed Norwegian.
"Of all the men, your bird chooses him, Eirikur…we may need to retrain him." Kjell made sure to say this when Mathias was within earshot, in a hopeful bout of spite.
"Kjell… you were always the one telling me to be careful once the ice! And the little man too… Well come on! Take my hand!" Mathias was all too happy to offer his hand out to Kjell, but rather disappointed to have the pesky child handed to him instead. If he recalled, the whole reason the Norwegian had came out was to find his 'lillebror' so it was easy to see who the Dane blamed the most. Not that he could say that in front of Kjell, or his fate would be threatened.
Even within the jealously, Mathias complied, grabbing hold of little Eirikur and settling the tiny yet-to-be-known nation in the deep snow, only to be alerted when the ice let out another thunderous crack, then a complete smash as it gave way under Kjell's feet, splashing freezing water into the air, and engulfing the young Nordic. "Kjell!" The Dane cried out, the everlasting smile wiped off his face as he reached over for the flailing hands of his best friend, slipping grip as quickly as he got it. Puffin and his owner were rather disorientated as well, wailing and squawking in fear, panic, and pure, raw shock.
Finally, a good grasp before Kjell disappeared to an aquatic grave.
The younger male had struggled with the waters with all his might, now a limp, panting heap. But alive, thanks to Mathias's strong grip on his hand. Alive. His head spun, white everywhere, then someone's back… yes… Mathias's back… he must have been slung over it… and then the sharp sound of a hand hitting flesh. It was not his, for no pain was felt. A few steps the Dane took, before the after mass of punishment revealed itself. Eirikur, innocent little Eirikur, lying in the snow with his red raw hands holding onto a similarly toned face. It must have been him that was slapped. Of course it would be. In the larger male's eyes, none of this would have happened if that boy had not been around. He was useless, not wanted… disposable. Who needed such a troublesome brat?
Kjell needed him. That same boy had given him a new reason to get up each morning; instead of fighting, eating, and serving his people… the boy had given him something no one else had been able to. Family. With that heart-warming note left in his mind, the Norwegian smiled weakly, before closing his eyes in semi-conscious rest, wanting to kick and hurt his companion for the pain he caused lillebror… but the need for recuperation had swallowed his being.