Before starting to read this first chapter, I'd like to thank those you favorited and put this story on alert. Also, great thanks to my three reviewers- this chapter is dedicated to you.

I hope you enjoy, Mattie was really cute to write as a little kid. Francis is less creepy than normal, but Darwin still finds him a strange nation.

Young Canada was the first to give me his story. He seemed almost enjoyed when I singled him and his pet polar bear out in a crowd.

His voice was quite quiet as he spoke, like he wasn't used to someone listening. He seems like and intelligant child, and I can't discern why he is like this.

France offered to tell me his side of the tale, but frankly, the man was creeping me out. The way his eyes roamed didn't make me comfortable, and I left his line of sight as soon as I could. I believe that I will have a good enough story without his imput.

With this, I still feel no closer to discovering the long life of these creatures. Getting Kumajirou, I decided that he doesn't know either and doesn't care enough to help with my investigation.

Charles Darwin

A little boy sat on his father's lap, his purple eyes wide with curiosity. "Papa," he asked, his voice nearly a whisper. "Can you tell me the story with the white bears again."

"Mon files," he said, patting his son on the head and twisting his adorable little curls. "Don't you want to hear about the playful seals or the graceful caribou. They are much more majestic than the white bears."

The son shook his blonde head, his longer hair spraying out around him. "You said you'd tell me what ever story I want. I really love the one about the hunter and how the great Kumajiro saves him from freezing in the snow land." He opened his eyes even wider, giving a sad look to his face.

"Honhonhon," laughed the father, ticking his son in the stomach. The the boy squealed with laughter, shaking from head to toe. "You know I can't possibly resist such a cute face. "

"So you'll tell me," asked the boy, wheezing in oxygen. "Can you use the different voices like you did when Antonio and Gilbert came over. It made the story a lot better."

"Of course," cried Francis, getting into the storytelling mood for his son. "For I am the greater hunter, Nanook." He bellowed out in his deep voice, throwing his hands in the air as his son clapped and giggled.

"I have been traveling for many days, my companions lost to the snow one by one. Only I stand, but I fear for not much longer."

"Why won't he be standing for much longer," asked Mattie. He had long since learned the answer, but it was routine for him to ask. He wasn't about to break a family tradition.

"Ah, Little Maple," cooed Francis. "He is about to join the Holy Father in the realm after this one. His is to become one with the nature around him."

Before taking up the story again, he shifted to a softer more gentle voice. "Oh brave hunter," he sighed, moving a hand to his forehead like he was feeling faint. "I can not bear to see you pass from this world. I will send you a guide to help you return to your people. You must have an open heart to survive the encounters you will face."

His voice back to the rough growl of an Inuit hunter, the father raised his head to the sky, pointing a finger to the ceiling. Mattie looked up with purple eyes, smiling when he realized there was nothing up there and it was just part of the story.

"Sedna," he cried, fake tears streaming down his face. "I thank you for your assistance for I long to be reunited with my family. You can trust I will be open with your tundra for help can come from anywhere."

"So Nanook walked across the snow barren landscape," whispered Francis. He slowly walked his fingers up his son's arm, forcing Mattie to stifle laughter. "Suddenly a white bear leaped from the ice in front of him."

"Growl," shouted Mattie, trying to climb up his father. "Papa, I'm a white bear. Growl." He barred tiny teeth and batted at the stubble on his father's chin.

Francis picked his son up by the waist and waved him around in the air. "You are my ours blanc," he said, kissing his white forehead as he returned the red-faced child to his lap. "Now, my peu petit mâle, where are we in the story. Oui, Nanook has just seen the white bear."

"And Nanook raises his great hunting spear to throw at the bear," cries Mattie, his childish voice deepening as he tries to copy his father. Seeing the solemn face of Francis, he bubbles over with giggles.

Running his fingers through his son's baby curls, Francis pretends to scold the child. "You know that is my part of the story. Maybe I should sit your lap and you can tell me about the white bear."

"No," shouted the boy. "You would crush me, please tell the story. Please, please, please." He put on huge purple puppy dog eyes.

"Those eyes," cried the father, pretending they burned him. "I guess I will have to tell the story. You must be quiet though." He put his pointer finger to his son's mouth put pulled away when he was spit on.

"Nanook was prepared to thrust his spear into the white bear, but then he remember the words of Sedna. Could this be the guide she had sent for him?" He paused, taking a deep breath as he experimented how long his son could be quiet before he shouted out.

"Yes."

"Oui, it is Nanook's guide. The brave hunter kneeled down in front of the great bear and thrust his spear into the ice." Francis bowed his head, kissing his son's forehead.

"Suddenly, the bear leapt forward, grabbing the hunter's fur coat." Shaking out his hair, Francis resumed telling the story as the great ice warrior. "I thought I was done for, but the bear took me into the skies."

"And they traveled the Borealis all the way home," cried Mattie, clapping his hands together, rushing out the ending. "Do you think I could be a great hunter like Nanook?" He dug his small finger into his father's coat and heaved himself up until he was eye level.

"Of course, mon files," said the father. "You could be an ice warrior even greater than Nanook. Instead of the tundra though, you have the forest and the mountains."

Mattie looked into his father's blue eyes and smiled. "I will be the great hunter Mattie and I'll have a white bear to ride on, just like Nanook."

Ruffling his son's hair, Francis set him on the ground. "For my sake, please get some flying reindeer. Having you even dreaming of riding the man-eaters scares me."

"Don't worry, Papa," said Mattie, waddling to play with his stuffed animals next to the fireplace. "I'll be able to tame any order of animal."

"Papa," called a young blonde haired man covered in furs from head to toe. He was bent over, tugging on a pair of beaver skin moccasins. "I'm going to check the traps. I'll be right back."

"Oui," cried the father, following the smells of baking bread. "If we have trapped any rabbit, make sure to bring it right back. I have the most delicious ragoût planned for diner. Run along Mattie."

"I'll be back before sunset, don't you worry about me," called Mattie heading out the door. At fifteen, he was already taller than his father, nearly having to duck to get out the small cabin door.

Once out in the wilderness, he took a deep lungful of cold mountain air. It cleared his head as he calmed down and settled down into his familiar routine. His glasses fogged up with his breath, so he waited until they adjusted to the steep drop in tempature.

He started along a hidden path, slowly scanning the forest for animal tracks. He had been traveling these trails since before he could walk and knew when some thing had been there.

Something inside of him pulled him away from his usual path, and he veered down a trail that he usually saved for last. As soon as he had started in that different direction, he heard a strangled cry.

It was his instinct that kept him from immediately running to the sound. Papa had often told him that only baby animals cried and where there were baby animals, there were protective mothers.

As the crying continued on, Mattie couldn't stand hearing the pained noise any longer. He kept his footfalls soft and tried not to move the scattering of leaves that dotted the crisp ground.

He slung his rifle off his back and quietly loading it as he sneaked through the foliage. His heartbeat accelerated as the cry grew louder and more urgent. He never loosened his grip on his gun when he realized something had probably happened to the mother.

Suddenly he broke out into a clearing he recognized from where he had laid his newest trap. Caught in the string was a white blob, struggling as the barbed rope dug around its two back legs.

When two coal black eyes turned to the boy, he dropped his gun and rushed to the animals side; he instantly forgot all his lessons and only remembering the story Papa would always tell him.

His guide had come, a sign from the god of the tundra - the almighty Sedna. He rubbed behind the bears ears, minimally surprised when the cub stopped struggling and looked up at him.

"Mama," asked the bear, speaking in a tiny human voice. Because of his Papa's stories, he was expecting the bear to speak. "Mama," it cooed once again, pawing at Mattie's other hand.

"No, ours blanc," softly spoke Mattie, afraid to spook the star-sent bear. "I'm Mattie, the man who saved you."

"Who?" asked the bear, tilting his head. He started to lick at Matti'se hand, the rough tongue urging a giggle out of the boy, who struggled to repeat what he had just said.

The bear gave him another sad look. "Not mama, who?"

"It doesn't matter who I am," said Mattie, unable to get mad at the adorable cub who couldn't remember who he was. "Let me just get you out of here. Please don't struggle, I don't want you to get injured any more."

The cub stopped struggling and looked at Mattie with its huge coal black eyes. It only winced as barbs where pried from its skin, a small mewing sound coming from its mouth.

Hefting the bear into his arms like he would a stuffed animal, he started walking back towards his cabin. "I should name you, little cub," he told the bear. "Something benefiting of Sedna's servant."

"Where?" asked the bear, burying its head into te crock of Mattie arm.

"Kumajirou, Kuminjour, Kamijriu, Kimjijruo, whatever Nanook's guide was called," said Mattie, breathing into the bear's soft skin. "That is what I'll tell Papa to call you."

"Kumajirou to Papa," repeated the bear, sleepily. "Kuma is going to bed. Tell Mama I will miss her. I'm with the shy and invisible one."

"Aw," sighed Mattie, letting the bear squirm around until it decided it was comfortable. "Papa is sure to love you."

Hope this chapter made you smile and you feel like giving me a review.

I could be studying for finals, but instead, I'm writing about Canada and his bear. At least Hetalia is like History.

Again, the next chapter will be Prussia, North Italy, Egpyt (if I can find more about his personality,) Greece, and Lietschstein.

~Scar