Thank you guys so much for the wonderful feedback, and the overwhelming support for this story so far. I hope this chapter won't disappoint too much. :)

Somewhere in the world was a nameless forest situated beside an anonymous lake, where the trees stood proudly, even against howling, frigid winds. The people in the nearby towns feared stepping foot anywhere near these grounds, because no one wanted to offend the great General Winter by trespassing on his holy fortress. Though, being the righteous and kind deity he was, he always made sure that the few people who had the heart to pay him a visit were sent back in the spring. Their defrosted bodies, limp and mouldy, floated down the river and back into civilization.

Hidden behind this bulwark of trees was a single log cabin. Though humble in its size, it was a quaintly attractive home with a cute little door, a garden, and a chimney which always puffed out cinnamon-scented smoke every day at noon.

Ivan Braginsky was a boy who often wore a sweet, though awfully wide smile on his baby face. He had bright violet eyes which sparkled like polished jewels, even inside the cabin enveloped by smoke and steam from his sister's cooking. He was sitting by the open window, as the winds outside tousled his head of silver hair into even more of a mess. The family's pet fox laid in his lap, mewing in pain as he stroked its fur, rather roughly. It thrashed in Ivan's arms, trying to free itself, but its efforts had proved to be futile against his stubborn, almost mechanical strength.

Ivan wondered why it was struggling so much. It was a pet, and pets craved attention. He was giving it attention, and therefore, it should be happy, not sad! His smile turned upside down. Why was the world so confusing?

"Vanya! What do you think you are doing? You are going to kill it!"

Ivan's head rose slowly upon hearing the voice of his older sister, Yekaterina. She was standing in front of him, with hands on her hips and a displeased expression hanging from her usually serene face. She didn't look too happy.

"Huh?" He tilted his head like a curious owl.

She rolled her eyes. "Urgh, I knew it was a bad idea to let you play with Pyotr!" She scolded, taking the injured Pyotr into her arms and coddling him. "Or else, this would have been the sixth grave we've had to dig for our pets! Why can't you learn to control yourself, Vanya?"

Ivan, in turn, drooped his head like a flower missing sunlight. "Oh, please don't be mad," he replied softly through quivering lips, "I was trying to show how much I love it, like how I love my big sister... But it only wants to get away from me!"

Though she was pleased to hear what he had said, Yekaterina had already fallen for enough of his excuses already to let it go this time. Despite her brother's large, puppy-dog eyes gazing longingly at her, she knew she had a job to do. Setting the fox down, she scolded, reluctantly, "You ought to behave for the rest of the day, or you won't get to eat tonight!"

She hated threatening Ivan like that. But the child had been nothing but trouble from the moment he was born. He needed discipline like their garden needed warm sunny weather. With that thought, she turned around, and went back to her housework.

Ivan sighed. He knew that he had said something wrong, again. But, he just couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was.

It had always been like this. He tried his hardest to be a good boy and not make his big sister mad, but it never seemed to work. He would help her fetch water from the well when dinnertime rolled around, and put more wood into the hearth when it got too cold. But it wasn't his fault that the water bucket was so heavy and he'd end up spilling it all over the floor, nor that the fire was so angry that it'd jump out and attack him!

Sometimes, Ivan felt that he couldn't do anything right, and that Yekaterina hated him because of it.

There was another girl in the room who sat on the rug in front of the fireplace. She had been watching them the whole time, but stayed eerily silent in the shadows. Her name was Natalia, and was the younger sibling of Ivan and Yekaterina. She had a pair of dark sapphire eyes and long, platinum-blonde hair which reached to her knees. Ivan would not have noticed her if she hadn't risen up, walked over, and plopped her bottom right upon Ivan's lap.

He whimpered painfully and opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Natalia. "Big brother will come outside to play with me, yes?" She had snaked her arms around his neck, and was whispering so closely into Ivan's ear that he could feel his skin melting from her hot breath.

Ivan admitted that Natalia could be a little strange at times. But, she was his little sister, and how could he deny her anything? "Of course, Bela," he replied in jolly tone, though silently hoped that she would get off him. His legs were falling asleep.

"Certainly not!" Yekaterina's voice echoed from across the room. "Father told us to not go outside today, and we're supposed wait for him until he gets home!" She abandoned dicing potatoes and stomped over to where her siblings were.

Natalia glared at her.

"Don't give me that look, missy," Yekaterina warned, pursing her lips until they were paper-thin, "Remember the last time when you and Ivan left without permission? Father nearly froze you two to death, and I had to beg for your lives!"

Natalia pouted, and turned to Ivan instead, giving him a small peck on the cheek. "But you like me better than stupid... Ukraine, right?"

Yekatrina flinched from hearing her formal name, and turned her berating gaze to Ivan as well, who, by now, looked like he was about to cry.

"Right?" Natalia asked again, her voice reduced to a low hiss.

Before Ivan had the chance to answer, a gust of wind suddenly flew open the cabin door. It slammed against the wall, and fell on the ground with a deafening clang. Hail and snow tumbled into their warm little home, as a blast of arctic air pierced through Ivan's face like spears. Natalia screeched in fright, and hugged her brother to the point where he was almost choking.

"You will come with me, Russia." A hollow voice echoed from deep within the forest, the throat of winter. It wasn't a command, nor a suggestion. The voice had stated a simple fact.

Instinctively, Ivan peeled Natalia off of him, rose, and began taking slow, steady steps towards the exit. Yekaterina's face blanched in silent fear.

"Have you gone mad?" Natalia shrieked, grabbing hold of Ivan's arm with biting strength, which he shook off indifferently, "If you go with that wretched bastard, you'll be killed!"

"Silence, Belarus."

A drift of snow lifted the girl up from the ground, and threw her against the wall. After being driven face first into the hardwood, she fell, unconscious. Ukraine rushed to her side and shook her shoulders frantically to awaken her, but to no avail.

Russia acted like he saw nothing and continued to walk towards the voice, apparently deaf to Ukraine's calls for him to come back. Left behind him was Pyotr's corpse, mangled and bleeding. At least his death had been quick, a twist in the neck by a swift murderer.

A large pale hand manifested out of thin air and was presented to Ivan. He took it, and was led past the timberline. A few wolves howled in the distance, as if to initiate their own cruel welcome to the boy.

Despite all the bad things his sisters had said about him, Ivan had always thought that General Winter, his father, was not scary at all. Rather, he remembered him to be quite nice. He gave them a home to protect them against the cold, and enough food so they wouldn't starve. They really couldn't, and shouldn't ask for more.

As they walked through the forest, General Winter would sometimes cease his stride when little Ivan had to step over particularly large tree roots, to give him some room.

Though Ivan was not scared of him, he was curious about where they were going. He hoped that they would get there soon, because he didn't think that it was a good idea to stay out here for too long. Ivan rubbed his two hands together rapidly and blew into them. It was getting cold...

Trees bowed to yet another gust of wind that, upon its arrival, threw poor Ivan back at least two feet. "Oww," he whined, when his bottom met fresh snow. He struggled to get up and continued to awkwardly limp forward, nursing a sprained ankle.

General Winter turned, looked down on him, and growled in displeasure. "What am I going to do with you, Russia?" His voice slapping Ivan in the face, "The Tatars are going to invade our motherland, and... Look at you... Your pathetic frame can't even withstand a simple stroll in the woods, let alone lead armies into battle!"

Ivan blinked a few times, trying to dust away the few tears that had froze immediately along his lashes.

What he said wasn't very nice...

"W-well, I-I think we should all be friends..." He suggested shyly, burying his face into his scarf, in case he had said something wrong again.

There was silence. Then, a wave of thunderous laughter echoed through the forest, making the trees shudder in fear, as they shook off the snowflakes that had collected on the branches. Reindeer pranced away, in search of peace.

"Naive child, you think they will spare you any mercy?" He roared, thrusting Ivan onto the ground again, "No, they have already slaughtered hundreds of villages, set fire to them until there was nothing left but dust!" Ivan could no longer keep the tears from rolling down his cheek now. "What makes you think that they wouldn't do the same to you?"

Ivan bit down on his lips so hard that they bled, as to not let his big fat mouth get him into trouble again. Instead, he sat where he was, staring emptily at the back of his father's head, hoping he would not be mad anymore.

After the General's angry storm had subsided, silence began to trickle in once more. All was still, frozen in time, except for the pitter-patter of water from defrosting icicles tapping on stone.

"I won't always be around to protect you," General Winter said after a while, gently placing his hand on Ivan's slumped shoulder, "You must learn to take care of yourself, and your sisters."

... Did Father just touch him, and in a kind way too?

Oh yay!

He decided that he liked his father very much after all. He looked up at General Winter and gave him a slow, dreamy smile.

For the first time months, sparrows began to sing. New leaves were budding, and the snow that Ivan had been sitting on melted through his pants. General Winter, who knew that his time had come, turned and walked away without saying goodbye.

"Wait, where are you going?" Ivan cried, rising up to run after him.

He couldn't just leave! Ivan had never even ridden a horse before in his life, let alone lead a whole army into battle!

...He did mean for him to go to war, right? 'Cause those bad guys sounded really mean, and even though he had always hated fighting, Ivan knew he would, to the death, if anyone dared to harm his family.

He tried to grab his father's coat sleeve in search for answers, but only found thin air. General Winter had faded away, leaving him all alone, again. Ivan stomped his feet in frustration, but only caused the puddle under his boots to splash cold, muddy water onto his face. What was he going to do now? He knew nothing of warfare, and he was, well, scared...

"Ivan, you must, for the blood of our ancestors that runs in your veins."

Borrowed the phrase, "throat of winter" from a song with the same name by a Swedish metal band, Opeth. Shameless advertising? I think so! Check 'em out! !,,!

Thanks for reading, everyone! Please review! I promise that Ivan and Yao will meet. I just have to quickly introduce everyone else. Which will be soon. xD

(You know I won't update unless there is some feedback... :3)