Alvi was not in a good mood.
After making the Vargas's run 10 km, she had had to sleep outside in a tree, since the Italians were using her home. (Not that she minded sleeping in trees, but there was a light drizzle that left her rather frumpy.)
Getting up at 6 as usual, she had had to poke the both of them awake, then again when they had gone back to sleep instead of getting changed.
Since Skogurians didn't eat food before ten, the brothers were whining about how hungry they were.
"SHUT MOUTH!" she had finally snapped. This kept the two quiet for a while, enough time to group them in with the native children, mostly boys, who were also scheduled for training.
After some quick sparring, Alvi demonstrated proper form for fighting, then handed out some long staffs, for practice.
She debated pairing the brothers together, but ultimately chose not to, so that they might actually learn something.
"Feli, you fight Willtam," she gestured for a ginger boy to come over. "(Willtam, you are to try weaponless against Feli. Don't go easy on him.)"
"Romano-"
"You finally got my name right, basterd!"
"-you fight Madelyn."
Romano felt a hand poke his thigh. Looking down, he saw a small girl with fire-truck red curls gazing up at him with doe eyes.
Damn it, she's too cute!
"Oi! Wild basterd! I'm not fighting a baby!" He declared, picking up the youngling.
Alvi came over and took the child gently, smiling softly, but an evil fire growing in her emerald eyes.
"This Ciara. That, is Madelyn." The young nation pointed her chin off behind Romano before walking back to the sidelines, scolding Ciara very lightly for wandering around.
Turning around, Lovi felt a sense of dread, seeing as whenever this happened in a movie, the real person was always a burly man who ate bricks for breakfast.
But it was just a 10-year-old blonde, offering him a staff.
He was about to complain again about fighting against a little girl, but the ground wanted to meet his face. Coughing, he stood up, only to be headbutted in the stomach. "H-hey! That's-a my move!"
He kicked out, knocking the girl over. Coming down from his anger, he helped the girl up, then they started fighting again, with him winning, in the end.
-0-
-0-
Feliciano wasn't doing too well.
Since he was paired off with someone much smaller and younger than himself, Feli was having the same doubts about the fight as his brother.
"Ve~ buon juorno, Willtam! Do you like pasta? Oh wait, you don't seem to have it here- that's horrible! I bet that you would love it if-"
Willtam took his chance to punch the italian in the gut.
"Ve~ ah! I'm sorry I'm sorry! Please don't hit me, I have relatives here! Well not really, but please don't hurt meeeeeee...white flag! White flag!"
He started waving his handkerchief about madly, tied to his fighting staff.
"Feli! No! Fight! Else you fight wolf!"
Sobbing, Feli waved the flag faster, not really hearing anything over his babbling.
Willtam was put off by the man's histerics, and tried to help him up, but went too close and got hit by the flag. Falling back, he gave up.
"Bhuaigh sé! A thabharfaidh mé i!" (He wins! I give in!)
When Feliciano realized that the fight was over, he stood up and apologized profusely to the boy.
Alvi pulled the younger Vargas aside, deciding that Lovino was doing well enough without assistance.
"Felician. I show you. Like me." She pulled the handkerchief off his staff and positioned correctly in his hands.
She held it straight up and down, and waited for the Italian to copy, adjusting his hands.
They practiced a few more moves, before lunch was served. Afterwards, the three nations went for a hike into the forest.
"Is quiet. You quiet. Yes?" Sko tried to teach them the ways of the hunter, but it ended badly when she caught a squirrel and broke its neck right in front of the other two. Veneziano started crying and chattering about the poor creature's family.
"Ve~ the poor scoiattolo was so cute...I bet its mama and papa will be so sad and it probably had a girlfriend and maybe it had babies too? *Gasp* Ah! I'm sorry little babies for killing your daddyyyy..."
Romano took this as an opportunity to climb the large boulder they were next to, to try and get reception on his brother's phone.
Reaching the top, the wind blew across the land, bouncing his curl and ruffling the training kilt he was wearing. Holding up the electronic like baby Simba, he watched as one of the bars flickered, then died.
Getting up on his tippy toes, he shuffled about on the rock, almost dancing, swearing under his breath.
"C'mon...fuck...bastardo cell phone...stupid Spain..."
Taking one step too many, Lovino fell off the boulder catapulting the phone into the underbrush and falling onto Sko.
Scrambling, Feliciano squealed in fright. Realizing what he had done, Roma helped Alvi to sit up, astounded that the kid hadn't even yelped.
I mean, 'he' had had just gotten 'his' arm broken!
(Heya, internet!
I realized that I messed up the timing of the story, making things happen too fast….
So I tweaked it!
So the story happens as follows:
Day 1: Incident with dog
Day 2: Italies kidnapped, boyfriend freakouts
Day 3: Training (as written above!)
Day 4: World meeting
Day 5: Next chapters…..
I have thus re-formatted the chapters, to make the story flow in a more
chronological order (though if you weren't reading this while I was first writing it, you won't understand what I'm talking about).
\0_0/ victory dance for posting! Next bit coming soon!)