A new character shows up!

Warning: Angst, tension, innuendo, and an OC.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA. I have fun manipulating their characters, though

Concerning Moths and Lanterns

Ivan squatted in the brush, peering up at Yao from below. "Do you see anything, Yao-Yao?"

Yao shuddered at the disturbing nickname and whispered from the tree he was sitting in, "Yes, I see rabbit. To your left. In grass."

Ivan peered around the bush he was nestled behind and scanned his eyes across the area. Before long, he spotted the rabbit, sitting in a patch of grass, nibbling lazily. "Da, I see it. I'm taking aim." And he lifted the crossbow to his shoulder.

Just before he shot, though, Ivan sneezed, and the rabbit, alerted, hopped off into the brush.

"Дерьмо," Ivan swore, getting to his feet.

Yao jumped down from tree he was in. "You sneezed, Russia."

"I know, Yao-Yao." Ivan replied somewhat dangerously.

Yao shrunk back a little. "Maybe someone is talking about you?"

Ivan chuckled, making Yao back away a little more. "Da, but I have a feeling the only time I'm brought up in conversation is one in which something violent is involved…" His eyes drifted accusingly to Yao.

Yao stepped back so that he was a few feet away. "Uh… w-why don't we go to stream? We could catch fish there if try."

Ivan slung the crossbow over his back and said, "Da, that sounds good, Yao-Yao… You lead."

And Ivan laughed as Yao hesitantly took the lead, throwing fearful looks over his shoulder at him until they finally reached the water.

Ludwig picked his way through the foliage, bag in hand, already halfway full of berries. He hadn't heard from Feliciano for a while, and he looked back, worried he'd lost the bubble-headed Italian.

Then: "Germany! G-Germany! Where are you, Germany? You left me! Ve!"

"I'm right here, you idiot."

"Oh," Feliciano said as he popped out beside him. "Oh… hi Germany!"

Ludwig rolled his eyes, snatching Feliciano's sack of berries and peered inside. "What did you get?"

"Ummm…."

"Verdammt, Italy!" Ludwig chastised. "What did I tell you about eating the berries? This is supposed to be for the whole camp!"

"Ve~But they're yummy, Germany!"

"And I haven't checked to see if they're poisonous yet!"

"Berries will… kill me?" Feliciano looked as if he was about to cry.

Ludwig sighed. "Ja, idiot, but you look like you're perfectly fine. Just let me check them next time, okay?"

"… Okay, Germany."

"Good," Ludwig replied, pointing over to a clump of bushes next to him. "You pick from those over there, I'll pick from here."

"Okey-dokey, Germany, sir!"

"Oy…"

After a few minutes, Ludwig collected all he could from his bush, and turned to see if Feliciano was done. "Italy, have you—? Mein Gott, Italy!"

Feliciano had been about to pop a red berry into his mouth before Ludwig seized his wrist and plucked the berry from his palm, examining it. He sighed. "Italy, do you know what this is?"

"Ve… A berry, Germany?"

"Ja," Ludwig said. "But this berry is poisonous. It's called a yew berry. So don't eat it and get rid of all you've picked."

"But… I've already put them in the bag, Germany…"

"Well, then pick them out! No one can eat those!"

Feliciano pouted, but eventually did as he was told. "I'm sorry, Germany. I didn't mean to hurt anybody."

"I know you didn't, Italy. But you have to remember to check with me before eating anything you find out here, okay?"

"Yes, sir, Germany, sir!"

"Mein Gott… what did I do to deserve this?"

Francis picked up a few sticks from the ground and balanced them in his arms as he carefully stepped over a rotting log. He grimaced. "I can't wait until we leave this place." Seriously. His hair was becoming a mess and the humidity the trees were holding in wasn't helping any.

Alfred scoffed somewhere nearby. "I doubt that. We've only just got here. As much as I wish the same thing…"

"Oh," said Francis, smirking. "So we have something in common, ami?"

Alfred appeared from behind a group of trees, arms full of wood. "Yeah, I guess."

Francis stepped closer to him. "So… have you—gotten—anything in a while?"

Alfred looked curiously at him. "Whadaya mean?"

"I mean," said Francis stepping ever closer. "That maybe," step "we have more in common" step "than you may" step "think." By now he was brushing up against Alfred's shoulder leering. Alfred took a few paces away from him to pick up another stray stick.

"I still don't get what you mean, bro."

Francis sighed. Alfred had always been quite thick. "I mean, amour." He stepped closer. "That I've been very lonely since the Uprising, and I was wondering if perhaps we could do something recreational here while we're all alone."

Alfred thought for a moment, then came to a sudden conclusion, exciting Francis. "But, man, I'm with you. You can't be that lonely out here, can you?"

Francis sighed, exasperated. "I'm not with you around, ami. But look around, the scene is perfect for a few private activities. It certainly is,"—his eyes darted to the rotting log and he scowled—"romantic, non?" Well, he was desperate.

Alfred scoffed. "To you, but not to me. Jeez, you Frenchies and all your romantic ramblings all the time. When do you ever shut up about those things? If the forest looks good to you, then live here for crying out loud! I don't give a shit." And he started off back toward the camp. "C'mon, I can't hold much more."

Francis sighed, following him, feeling a bit crestfallen. "Well, there's still ten other people…" Then his mind floated to Ivan, shivering, and then he thought, "Non, only nine."

"A-a-achoo!"

"Bless you, Russia."

"Da, thank you, comrade." Ivan rubbed his nose with annoyance as he entered the camp with Yao beside him. "Why is everyone seeming to be thinking about me today?"

Maybe because they're scared of having to sleep in the forest with you…? Yao wanted to say, but bit his lip as he caught Ivan's glare, just daring him to answer.

Matthew immediately rushed up to them as soon as they arrived. "Did you catch anything, guys? Alfred and Francis got back with the firewood, so we're ready to cook anything you've got."

Yao raised a string of fish. Matthew smiled, then frowned. "My crossbow didn't work for you, it seems?"

"Nyet," Ivan replied. "I seem to be sneezing a lot lately and don't know why." Then he addd in a deadly whisper, "You haven't been talking about me behind my back, have you, comrade Matvey?"

Recalling what he had said earlier about Ivan, Matthew laughed nervously and answered, "Of course not, Russia, what would make you think that? I'm perfectly fine having you in this camp. Delighted! Ahahaha…" Oh, maple, please don't kill me. People are just starting to notice me…

Ivan gave him a long look before his eyes darted to Arthur. "What is comrade England doing, hm?"

"Uh…"

Arthur was currently seated on the ground by his completed circle, another smaller circle sitting right in front of him. He was wearing a dark cloak with the hood drawn up he must have gotten out of his bag when Matthew wasn't looking. Runes were drawn around the smaller circle, and the Briton was muttering furiously under his breath in some language Matthew had never heard of in his life, gently touching his fingers to each rune on the same weird word he uttered in turn.

"I really don't know… something about warding away evil spirits?"

Ivan raised an eyebrow. "Oh… interesting. Does he notice anything going on around him when he's doing that?" Something sinister glinted in Ivan's violet eyes.

Matthew stiffened. "I wouldn't interrupt him…"

"Hey, Igs, whatcha doing?" Alfred's loud voice echoed across the clearing.

He was standing over Arthur, nosily looking at what he was doing. Arthur turned to him, hood flying off, and growled, "Dammit, America! Why must you always interfere with my spells? Now you've disrupted the spiritual pressure (Haha, Bleach fan) and I have to start the cycle all over again!" He muttered angrily under his breath as he returned to his runes, leaving Alfred to stare with surprise at him.

"England-san," Kiku said suddenly as he stoked the flames of the fire. "is very strange indeed. Did I ever tell you what happened when he came to visit me and used my bath?"

Night was upon them, but the fire brightened the campsite and no one was tired, surprisingly. In fact, most of them were either too scared (thinking of Ivan or the wilderness) or too excited to sleep. They were all situated in a circle around the fire (within the outer circle Arthur had drawn, as Arthur had been very adamant about that) on their sleeping bags and talking casually as if this was just another world meeting but without the formal and boring atmosphere.

"So, okay, I've got one." said Alfred eagerly as his turn came around. "So these three nuns have to walk by this one apartment every morning to get to their monstrosity…"

"Monastery, git." Arthur corrected stuffily.

"Right, right," Alfred went on. "So they walked past this apartment everyday, but the problem was, there was a random parrot sitting on a perch that the manager owned, and every time they walked past, it shouted three random colors at them. One day they walked past it, it said, "Red, white, blue!"…"

Ivan rolled his eyes at the reference, and Alfred went on, "Then one of the nuns, okay, she had this wild idea. She said, 'Well, maybe it's saying what the color of our underwear is?' Dirty nun to suspect that, eh? Well, they checked and confirmed it. Then she said, "Let's wear the same color underwear tomorrow and see what happens" so they did: black. And the parrot said, "Black, black, black!" and the nuns were outraged of course, because they're, well, women of the clause…"

"Cloth, you dunderhead."

Alfred waved him down and Arthur scowled. "Whatever, Igs. So, anyway, the one nun was like, 'Why don't we try wearing no underwear and see what happens? That parrot will be fooled, then!' So they wore no underwear the next day and walked past the parrot…"

"I like where this is going, ami."

"Shut it, frog."

"So they walked past the parrot and the one nun was smiling to herself thinking 'What a stupid bird!' when, all of a sudden, the parrot squawked out after a moment of examination, "Straight, straight, curly!"…"

A second or so passed before the whole group burst out laughing. Well, all except Feliciano, of course.

"Ve, what is it? What's so funny?"

Gilbert began, "Well, you see the parrot said what each nun's—"

"If you tell him, bastard, I will kill you in your sleep." Lovino growled.

Meanwhile, Francis leered. "I like that one, ami. I'll be sure to remember it." Then he straightened. "Now, for one of my own. So this woman works at a sperm bank—"

"We don't want to know!" everyone called.

Francis slouched a bit, looking slightly offended. "Well, I assure you, you're missing a good laugh."

After a silent moment, Alfred rose from his sleeping bag, stretching. "Well, I gotta take a leak. I'll be right back."

"Thanks for telling us…" Arthur deadpanned.

Alfred went over to Matthew's backpack and searched through it. Matthew watched him with confusion. "Uh, Al? What are you doing going through my stuff? Didn't I tell you a long time ago it's not nice to do that?" He should have known Alfred still have a nosy streak in him. He did tend to piss off other countries with it often enough.

Alfred scoffed. "I'm not going through your stuff… but I do notice you have a picture of Cuba in here…" His voice turned threatening. Before Matthew could counter his claim, Alfred stood up and said, "Nah, I'm just taking a flare. It's dark and, ya never know, I could need help, or get lost, or be eaten by a wild animal, or be dragged away by some beast…"

Arthur sighed. "Alfred, how long has it been since you last watched a scary movie?"

"A couple of weeks… I was bored, all right?" he added when Arthur stared at him in disbelief. "I was shut in my house for nearly a month, so I went through my movie collection…"

Matthew sighed. "All right, Al. But don't be long. And be careful with that flare!" he said as his brother trundled warily off into the shadowed woods. "If it goes off, it'll attract all that is out there for miles like moths to a lantern!"

"I get it, I get it, bro, sheesh!"

And he was gone.

"Well," said Ivan, looking a trifle happier. "At least we don't have to listen to him for a while."

"Yeah," Arthur agreed, feeling weird that he was in accordance with Ivan of all people. "You'd think that after I raised him he'd be a little less rude and a little more tactful."

"A little?" Francis laughed, recalling his hard time in the forest with Alfred that day.

Matthew huffed. "It's not polite to talk about people behind their backs. Russia would certainly know." At this, Ivan gave a warning growl, and Matthew quickly went on, "A-and don't talk about how rude he is when you're being rude yourselves. I mean, honestly, with England raising him, he wouldn't have turned out any other way…"

Arthur looked affronted. "Really? And what are you implying? That I wasn't a good brother?" There was hurt in his voice.

"No…" Matthew said. "But if you raise someone so strictly, then they tend to rebel. As you learned, England. I'm not saying that you aren't a good teacher, I mean, your own charge outgrew you."

Arthur frowned, his lips drawn on in a thin line. "Go on."

Matthew continued almost warily. "Well, I mean, just look at his middle name."

Arthur shifted on his sleeping bag. "What is it? He never told me. He got it after his revolution."

Matthew was about to answer, when a shot pierced the air. It was followed by a red flash, shooting through the sky like a rocket.

"Al!" Matthew shouted, and as if he heard his name amongst all the noise, Alfred came charging through the trees, stopping in front of them, smiling broadly.

Matthew rushed up to him. "Alfred, what the hell did you do?!"

Alfred's smile grew even wider. "I lit the flare."

Arthur shouted incredulously, "America, you idiot! Why?"

"Everyone will know where we are for miles!" Lovino groaned.

"Be silent!"

Everyone stopped yelling and looked at Ivan fearfully. Ivan turned toward the trees. "I hear something… something's coming."

"Ve! Germany!" Feliciano began to sob into Ludwig's shirt.

The sound drew nearer, the sound of footsteps. Everyone raised their guns, but Alfred shouted, "No! Don't shoot! We have to see what it is first, remember?" He flashed an oddly excited look at Matthew and everyone glared at the Canadian in turn. Oh great. Matthew thought. Alfred found a loophole… probably for the only time in his life.

After a bit of rustling leaves, a figure darted into the clearing.

Then it stepped into the firelight.

It was a rather short girl, who looked to be about fifteen. She had dusky brown hair that fell to her shoulders, ending in little waves at the bottom. She had brown eyes and freckles, and was carrying a deer rifle. She looked around, her eyes wide and terrified.

"H-hello… I'm looking for my dad…"

Translations:

Дерьмо-Damn

A Word From the Writer: Yup. I told you I made up profiles about the states. What, you don't think I did all fifty? That's called patience and research, my friends... I'm currently drawing them.

Good evening, my lovelies, and remember

RUSSIA KNOWS WHAT YOU'RE THINKING.

Sweet dreams. ;)