Prussia's torso leaned into the branches of a Whitebeam tree. His grayish white robes fluttered in the soft May time-wind and his oily silver hair mismatched the trees dancing white flowers. HA! If Hungary could only see him now!
Prussia had taken up spying. Hungary had clamed he wasn't subtle enough to spy, and he was here to prove her wrong.
He peered down at the two teenagers leaning against the tree. They looked like normal humans, but he knew better. You could hear the fairy voices of their people whispering around them like small forgotten wind chimes. They were most definitely nations.
The long-haired blond one gave a tiptoed lean toward the taller brunet, and Prussia pushed his head down so he could hear well.
Swoosh, THUMP!
"FUCK!" Prussia held himself up on his hands as he spat mud-covered grass onto the ground. Then he fell onto his stomach and rolled onto his back, smearing mud across his face and clothing as he did so.
Damn, why did it have to rain yesterday? That was why he had slipped on the branch. It was also why he was now covered in soppy wet mud.
The two other boys stared at him with questioning gazes. Then the brunet broke into a grin that could probably cure the plague. "Hey! I haven't seen you before, what's your name?"
The blond-haired boy in the turquoise top gave off a harsh glare. "Spain! He was spying on us! Don't go making friends so easily!"
"Come now France, he's lying on the ground covered in mud. How much damage can he do?"
Prussia was shaking with fury at this point, he hated being ignored. "Hey! I am the awesome Prussia and I can do a lot of damage, even when I am covered in mud! I'm a nation not some fucking pig who sits in this shit all day!" His voice was high and screechy, some might describe it as banshee like; he was really hating the fact that his voice hadn't changed yet.
"Hum, he uses curse words quite a lot doesn't he France? He's kind of like Romano, don't you think?" The boy, who the blond one had called Spain, seemed to be looking at an invisible utopia. His eyes hazed off into the distance and he wasn't just smiling with his face; some how every centimeter of him was covered in a serene sort of joy, as if he had spilled it all over himself as a child and just couldn't get it off.
The blond one, France was his name apparently, started arguing with Spain in a disapproving, snobbish voice that grated on Prussia's nerves. "What are you talking about, Spain? This mangy rat is nothing like my sweet little Romano! And anyways were you even listening to him? Did you not notice the part about him being another nation?"
Ouch! Mangy rat? That stung Prussia's awesomeness to it's very core, but that didn't mean he had to show it. "yeah, I am a nation! And so are you so I think I deserve some respect. Now will you please help me out of this pig sty?"
France gave a half hearted sigh "well since you said please I suppose I must take pity on you and help."
Oh, thanks, Prussia thought. Just what I needed, pity.
i don't own Hetalia