I don't Own A thing (besides my OC's)

'Of.' Mattie said beside him, standing up from his chair with a grimace about having to move so suddenly after three whole hours of sitting. But he could only agree, he felt as stiff as a board. He needed to get some fresh air.

'Well, I'll step out a sec'' He called over his shoulder, sauntering out before anyone could object - or worse, called him back. Just to hold up the charade, he dug around in his bomber jacked for some cigs -and actually found some, too. Hadn't he bought Lucky Strikes instead of these, last time?

Whatever.

Sometime later he found himself again making his way through the undergrowth between the forest the hotel grounds bordered at, a national park and the whole reason why he suggested that particular one, beside its closeness to his Alaskan residence.

And maybe because the food was good, too.

But now that he thought about it, he was kind of sleepy - having something in his stomach always made him drowsy - and that small clearing there looked rather comfortable... Figuring he could as well have a rest here as in his hotel room, he settled onto a large batch of moss and started sunbathing. All around comfortable, he closed his eyes for a short nab, lulled in by the tranquility of the forest surrounding him. Sometimes he really wondered why he even went back. It was certainly more enjoyable being a bear...

'Medvedev!'

Suddenly a merry voice called out, with obvious delight to have found him. He froze rigid. There was Russia, standing a mere meter away between the bushes as if he belonged there.

Again.

He hadn't even heard him approaching - which was scary in its own right - and now the other came closer, with a happy skip in his pace. He should have fled as soon as he heard that voice was what he thought, somewhat resigned. Maybe when he pretended to ignore him, the other would get bored?

Well, one could certainly hope.

'My, you unquestionably are well-built.' The other said, in Russian again.

I'm not fat, was what he wanted to scream, but seeing as he was a bear currently, all what came out was an angered growl. 'No, you aren't.' Russia agreed.

He stilled, blinking down (hah) at his fellow nation.

What the hell?

But Russia only smiled up to him, not in the least concerned that he could easily maul him, - no really, him being, well, himself, in that form he certainly could without any problems. Although, Russia probably thought he was a normal bear and thus, he'd be able to win against him should it ever come to that. Which he wanted to avoid, if possible, since being absent often was something he could explain somehow but blood stains on his clothes? Not very likely.

His musings came to an abrupt halt when he felt something soft and warm on his stomach, giving him a light squeeze before retreading.

'See you later!' With that, Russia calmly walked away, back into the woods, and all he could do was staring blankly at his retreating back, unblinking.

...

Did the guy just hug him?

That must have been his overly productive imagination, he thought later during the third - and last - session of the day. Purely his imagination. But in the evening, it was the same picture.

'Medvedev!'

He went as early in the morning as possible the next day, took a whole new path, but still:

'Medvedev!'

In the evening of the same day, he managed to tip-toe out the back entrance, eventually. England really started to get on his nerves. And then he crawled trough the bushes along the lake until he was sure he wasn't being followed, not by Russia nor by anyone else of the bunch.

After taking another glance around he made a beeline to the woods, then halted to see if someone would reveal himself when the person thought he was gone.

Nothing.

He shook his head at himself. It was only paranoia, nothing more. Thus assured, he leisurely strolled for a few minutes before changing, confidently hidden from view between two large rocks. He sighed, stretching his muscles with a large yawn. Now, where should he go this time? Maybe inspecting that hunter's den a bit closer wouldn't be such a bad idea, just in case that they - There was something rustling in the bushes. Ever so slowly, he turned towards the noise.

'Medvedev!'

Ja. I know. It's short, even for a filler chapter.