✨🌾Cane Shuga🌾✨ [Countryhumans Rusame & Ukranada]

37: Party Rockers

[POV - Canada]

"Is it a rat?"
"Do rats giggle?" I turned to the country with a gaze of confused judgment, but spun back with the same velocity to the child wildly waving it's arms to reach me.
"It's a baby," I stated bluntly, a 1 year old is what it appeared to be, but it might be younger.

I stood to my full height and placed my broach back on my head, backing away  from the small being. The nursery was odd, yes, but I can overlook it if it meant finishing the job faster.

Ukraine, without a second word, turned back to our uncompleted job of packing the bags full to the brim and didn't turn to face me until it was completed. I gazed down at the child, how long has it been in here? Who was the last person to feed it? It must be so bored or even worse starving, pauvre bébé!

I hovered my hand just above the other and quickly, like a dehydrated leech to a corpse, it latched onto my fingers with a surprisingly strong grip, laughing at my fingers wiggling like a worm. Its limbs waved in the air as it giggled and eventually it got all the blankets off its little frame. That's when I noticed a tag wrapped around the little ones foot, the ones found on the ears of cattle, pigs, goats, meat in the making basically.

Carefully, I snapped it off.

"Hey Ukie, come real quick," he did as I ordered with a displeased face, but it all change when I asked him to transcribe the tag. The board expression laid out on his face suddenly shot to a worried one with each word his cloudy blue eyes raced by. I asked once again for the translation and received a terrifying response:
"This baby is... is being sold," the words creaked out of his mouth like a flimsy floorboard. I couldn't hide my absolute disgust, being sold? Sold to where? To who? This isn't the target's baby? How expensive is it to be kept in a vault?! In a weird way I was glad they were the only kid in this room—meant less victims—but even so I couldn't let this child be left as an aspiring one.

This babies vibes are way off, this can't be a normal child, can it?
While I could still see Ukraine examined the ear tag I leaned down and there tight there I could see its hair growing in, not in the normal shades of browns, blacks or even blonds, but in blue and gold.
This couldn't possibly be a human child, but the other option sent shivers down my spine just thinking about it. This wasn't just any child being sold—though that would still be terrible—but a country.

The UN never mentioned this!
Although I wouldn't doubt that's why we were sent here. Not to recover more of the money they don't need, but to return the lost country. But I haven't heard of a missing country.

I eyeballed Ukraine with the most devastated of faces, I expecting an immediate response in words, but instead he furrowed his eyebrows and aggressively spoke, "що? You want to take it with us?"
The answer was blatantly obvious to me even before he finished talking, I was repulsed on some level that he would ask this, ignoring the other human being in the room. Though, I understand the problem in stepping out of line just to take this infant—even if stealing people's property is our purpose of being there are rules threatening us every minute on the job.

"We cannot take care of it," Ukraine stated the obvious and turned away from me to zip up the bags for our escape, he wanted some ground to stand on, making it obvious was his first mistake.
"Tu as adopté un chien! Without my permission mind you! I am allowed a baby!"
"Babies and dogs are not the same!"

I hate to admit it, but he has a point. I gave a glare at the dirty hypocrite standing besides me, I was the one who had to return the dog back to the pet store after we realized we couldn't take care of her. So who is he to say I'm not responsible?

Unexpectedly, after a while of this back and forth we began hearing rocky wails, we struck a deal to not fight in front of the baby since we had no clue how to shush it, but I kept the pettiness mode on a high.
There's no point in expressing yourself if the other party isn't going to hear you. "I don't want you to be mad at me-"
"Too late," I smiled with hostility in every crinkle of my face.