You know what? That chapter was really fun and I wanted to continue the hunt! I hope you guys enjoy! Here we go!

Canada gasped as he barreled through the woods of these enclosed Pine Barrens. He didn't feel the wounds as much, adrenaline rushing through his system. He couldn't believe that his own kin was hunting him. He decided to rest by a large oak tree. That was a mistake. While he rested, the adrenaline levels decreased and new fresh pain washed over him. The bullets could be seen in his flesh. With great difficulty, Canada removed the bullets in his leg and shoulder, ignoring the one in his foot.

America had checked his watch. The traitor still had about ten minutes. The American adjusted his assault rifle along with his sniper rifle. He had more magazines in his backpack. Being a nation, he was not weighed down by this gear.

The hunted man limped around, not knowing where to go. He would never really be able to run, sooner or later he would succumb to his wounds. God knows what America would do with him once he found him. Canada blinked back tears. He had to remain sharp, vigilant and conscious. He decided that his best option was to hide. He crossed a river, clothes getting wet and uncomfortable. Seeing an easy tree to climb, he expelled a lot of energy climbing it. Perched on a branch, he huffed, breath misty in the cold morning air. He couldn't hide here all day. Gritting his teeth, Canada made his way back down once he regained strength. He thought that America said that he would get two days. Why was it only one hour?

The hunter smiled when he saw little specks of red on the ground. They were drops of Canada's blood, and America was going to follow them like a…komodo dragon. He cocked his rifle and followed the trail. What confused him was that they stopped at a tree, which had more blood on a branch. Canada must've been here, resting. America trailed one finger in a puddle and licked it. He always thought Canada tasted sweet.

Canada himself dragged himself through the forest, tripping over a lot of roots. At one point in time, he had twisted his ankle on one root sticking out of the ground. It was painful to move and his speed was drastically reduced. This was, of course, the moment when the Canadian realized he was trailing blood which America could follow. The odds were not in his favor. Please, he thought. Please let this hour pass by quickly. I've hit several fences and I can see that this area isn't very big. The Canadian hobbled forward but startled when he heard a shot.

"Canada! You have 30 minutes left!"

Thirty minutes left? Does time fly when you're trying to keep from being caught? The pain was almost unbearable now with dirt, dust and other things in the wound. Canada's ankle was inflamed. This caused the Canadian to discover that it was, in fact, broken. Suddenly, his ankle failed him and he crumpled to the floor.

"I heard that, Mattie! You're nearby!" America had indeed heard the fall and approached an area where he thought Canada was. There were drag marks off to the side so America started to follow that. He smirked. Let's flush out some birds. He raised his rifle up to the sky and fired. Birds started squawking and flying away. America listened through all the noise for one thing. He heard it. He heard a small gasp from a bush. Last time he checked, bushes did not gasp. He aimed his rifle and cocked it. "Come out, Canada. I've found you. You're in the bush." He reached in to pull out his prize.

Canada saw America's hand coming for him. He grabbed his makeshift spear and, with all his might and hate, drove it into the American's arm.

America felt the sharp pain and pulled back. "Fuck!" He dropped the gun and gripped his left arm. "Crap! You son of a bitch!"

Canada scrambled out of the brush and took up the rifle. "Hands up." His voice was hard and his orders swift.

America looked down the barrel and slowly raised his hands. He didn't seemed all that concerned; in fact, he seemed bored. "You won't kill me, Canada." He took a step forward. "You can't."

Canada was shaking but didn't lower the weapon. "I'll shoot."

"No you won't."

What scared Canada the most was his brother was right. He was America, his brother. He couldn't bring himself to shoot the approaching nation. "Fuck," he whispered. He lowered the gun. "I can't shoot you. You're right." He blinked back tears as the weapon was thrown at America.

America let the gun strike him. A cut formed from the impact and blood started streaming down his face. The rifle must've been really heavy. He chuckled and picked it up. "Well. Time for the hunter to collect his prey."

Canada swallowed and limped a bit forward. "Okay. Listen to me, America. You're not thinking straight. You are angry and messed up. I can help you."

America smiled. "I'm not messed up. I've just awaken." He twirled the gun and then expertly shot a bullet into the Canadian's knee.

Canada screamed and collapsed. Now there was no way of escaping. "America! I'm your brother!" His voice was cracking from the pain. "Please, just let me go!"

The American shook his head. "I'm like a cat. I'm going to play with you until I get bored. Then I'm going to kill you." He laughed. "Why don't you try to get away? Go on. Shoo."

Canada blinked and then let out a whimper as he slowly started to drag himself away from the enemy. He kept his eyes trained on America. His movements were jerky from exhaustion. He was whispering pleas of mercy, hoping that America would not pursue. His heart dropped when America started to follow slowly. Canada held one hand up protectively. "Please. Stop. Just stop."

America's grin went dark. "I'm getting bored, Bro. Better make this a little more interesting."

"I'll make it more interesting."

America heard this new voice and whipped around, rifle still trained on Canada. He smiled when he saw who it was. "Stay right where you are, Canada. This DID just get interesting."

Cliff hanger! I hope it's a good one. Anyway, this is really fun! Sorry for the late update. This is FlamboyantLollipop signing off. Until next time.