Book 4 - Spring

II - Start

'Don't get any closer to that!'

"Hey!" Brazil shrieks.

"Zil!" Mexico hisses, "He is not letting us go over there for a reason!"

Brazil scowls and backs up, her back arching aggressively. Russia returns his attention to the trees and feels something staring at him from above. Russia hisses louder.

Then, something drops from the trees and brushes Russia's whiskers. Russia's head whips around to look and he sees a hulking figure sizing him up. It has the shape of a snow leopard, but its legs are thinner and bend outward. Its face is wide, and Russia can count a few too many eyes in its head.

Russia backs up a few steps, and he feels those under him follow him back.

It stands on its claws as it creeps forward, smelling the air and huffing, staring at Russia with an almost curious look. Russia's back arches, but he refrains from making any more noise.

It seems to be taking him in the same he is to it. It smells of rotten fish and meat and a marker Russia had smelled attached to the area. Its body looks to be mostly intact, so Russia can't quite rationalize where the smell is coming from.

It meows at him. It echos strangely in Russia's head. Russia growls softly but curses his ears for his inability to monitor the volume. The thing huffs again and carefully approaches. Russia hisses, his fur fluffing up.

The thing jumps closer and smells Finland. Finland freezes and Russia gets ready to yowl and bite. But the monster didn't seem to have any interest in attacking them. It seemed more interested in exploring what they were.

Russia hisses as loud as he could manage and the creature backs away with its tail still raised high. It tilts its head at him before turning around and climbing the trees like an insect. Russia watches it ascends and it perches itself high above the ground.

'I wish I could be up there.'

Russia slowly backs up and picks America up again.

"What the fuck was that?" Finland asks, close to Russia's ear, her voice low.

'I don't know, but we need to leave.'

Russia takes a few steps with a purpose and chirps. His group stays much closer to him now, and Russia is careful not to trip on anyone as they crowd around his legs.

Texas collapses into a heap shortly before dawn. New Mexico helps him down and Alabama helps Mississippi herd everyone back to help. Russia watches Texas cough and groan, clutching onto his bag straps.

Russia sits down, signaling to the others to break. They gather around him. Russia lays his head down for just a moment.

Then, Texas' coughing fit stops short. Russia's ears perk up, and he notes that all of their breathing had stopped. Russia springs to his feet and his eyes widen with panic.

'What..?'

Russia looks down to see all of them frozen in place. He pokes America. He feels stiff and cold, and Russia notes the distinctly static feeling surrounding him. Russia quickly walks around and finds that all of them radiate magic.

Russia tries to move them, only to find it awkward and difficult as their positions don't change. He smells them and they don't smell any different. They don't smell any less alive.

'They can't be dead.'

Russia then catches a whiff of more unfamiliar people and his back arches.

'I need to get them out of here.'

He begins by grabbing Finland by her coat and bag and finds that the fabric feels strangely stiff and rigid. He bounds through the bushes, only to stop short.

'I can't leave the others unattended for long.'

He places her down carefully on relatively smooth ground and runs back. And out of curiosity, he opens his magic view for a split second while approaching. He finds that all of them are surrounded by a dark teal sheen that sticks to them like honey. America's blue flickers under it.

It's barely visible.

His heart skips a beat and relief briefly hits him under the near paralyzing fear.

'He's alive. He has to be if he still has his magic.'

Russia grabs North Carolina and readies himself for moving them all, one by one.

'That means the rest of them are alive too.'

Russia swiftly hurries back.

'They have to be.'

He sits, panting, next to the collection of people, only to smell the air and the stench of the people inching closer. His paws ache as he forces himself back to his feet.

'I will keep them away from those fuckers.'

Russia winces at the sharp brush that grows bloody from scratching his legs and paws.

'We will be okay. I just have to keep them safe until they wake up.'

'I hope they wake up...'

Russia shakes his head and tries to dismiss the suffocating doubt and grief.

'They will wake up. They have to be okay. They have to be.'

Russia takes a few more running steps and ignores the deep scratches from jagged wood digging into his sides. His eyes are narrow with determination.