Book 4 - Spring

XI - Hounds

Russia's hair rises on his back and he sits up, smelling the air from instinct.

'It smells like death.'

Sunlight barely manages to slip past tree trunks to litter the ground of their camp. The fire is manned by the twins, who look nervous, but not panicked.

Russia moves to stand and hisses at the pain in his back and ankle.

'That's not nice.'

He walks over to them and Mexico hops to her feet, startled. She holds her fists high in the air with a scowl.

"Russ?" South Dakota asks, cautious.

"Something isn't right," Russia growls, his eyes focused on the shadows creeping around tree roots.

The twins meet each other's eyes before North Dakota puts her fingers to her lips and whistles loudly in three short blasts. The states and Alberta shoot to their feet, though Texas sways for a moment before steadying his stance. America sits up with a start.

"What's going on?" New Mexico asks urgently.

"Something isn't right," Russia replies, "get ready for a fight."

Alabama and Mississippi nod and circle Texas, who receives Finland's machine gun from New Mexico. Ukraine rubs his face with a confused and skittish look. Brazil clenches her fists and walks to stand next to Mexico, taking an offensive stance. South Carolina helps his sister to her feet and hands her his knife, arming himself with a makeshift spear.

Florida pulls a large screwdriver from his backpack and glares at their surroundings, clutching his tool with a death grip. Ohio clenches his fists and Kansas stands behind him, looking suspiciously at the foliage. America walks up and stands beside a wired Finland, who snarls at the brush.

Russia growls and his claws extend. He arches his back and his fur stands up. Pangs of pain remind him of the swelling in his ankle and back, but he ignores it the same as he ignores the stinging of his cuts.

'I can still move, I'll be fine.'

Russia spots a pair of eyes staring up at him and he takes an aggressive step forward, baring his teeth.

Ukraine opens his mouth. "What's going-"

He's cut off by the trees exploding with noise.

Large dogs the size of wolves and moose burst through the shadows, frothing at the mouth and barking. Russia's vision narrows to them and he yowls, his teeth extending alongside the static in his chest.

Russia leaps over their gnashing maws and lands in the center of the group. He slashes and spins, causing many of the creatures to turn toward him. Light blue arcs light up behind them.

One topples at his feet. He sees an approaching claw in his periphery. He tenses for the hit when there is a rush of air behind him. He spins to see Ohio giving him a proud grin, his arm outstretched and the hound scrambling against a tree trunk several meters away.

Russia nods with appreciation and ducks, sweeping a monster's legs out from under it. Gunfire rings out. Russia's eyes spin back to a monstrous silhouette. He knocks canine teeth to the ground and delivers a hefty kick to the creature's neck, sending it to its knees long enough for him to jump over it.

Wind brushes his ears and he spins on his heels, ignoring the pulsing from his ankle. He crouches into his landing and pulls back to his feet.

'Motherfucker.'

Russia hears something run toward him. He spins to meet it, his arm out. He extends his claws and catches the dog by the side of its throat, sending it rocketing into the rocks on the ground. Mexico cheers and Russia snarls.

He hears a familiar voice shout and his head pops up to see two monstrosities jumping at Ukraine, who stares in terror.

'FUCK! MOVE!'

Frantic, he spots the twins standing nearby.

"DAK!" Russia shouts, flipping a charging creature over his shoulders.

North Dakota's gaze meets his before she spots Ukraine. North Dakota runs toward Ukraine with no hesitation. South Dakota follows without question.

Russia spins to his right and runs for America.

North Dakota shoulder checks the dogs into each other. South Dakota grabs Ukraine, both nearly skewered by canine teeth.

Russia slides to a stop at America's side. America spots him and greets him with a quick smile, slicing huge lacerations in any creature within his range

"Aim for the eyes!" America shouts above the chaos.

Russia's eyes widen in surprise before they narrow in concentration. He spins around, ignoring the ache in his back. He growls and hisses, slashing as close as he could get. His fur is completely saturated with blood.

Russia spots more movement and tracks it. Kansas shoves dogs away from them toward Alberta. Something else catches his eye and he swipes over America's shoulder. America ducks.

Russia reduces the dog's eyes to deflated holes.

The dog yelps and falls. South Carolina spears a dog through its torso. North Carolina slashes out its eyes.

Russia snarls, and his throat takes on a static feeling. He pays it no mind as he leaps onto the back of another creature. It thrashes and throws him down onto his spine. Russia lets out a muffled cry of pain.

He scrambles away. The thing slashes out the back of his shirt. His back grows wet and warm.

'So much for clothes,' he thinks sarcastically.

He races forward to shield Ukraine, running past Brazil and Mexico. Florida leaps from trees, wrestling dogs to the ground. Finland fights as Florida's aid. Russia opens his mouth and his throat feels almost full. He takes a breath.

He roars loud enough to drown out all other noise.

'Huh... cool.'

The dogs all spin toward him and whimper. Russia jumps forward and swipes. America swings his scythe to decapitate the closest dog. The dogs that are still able to move hop up and scamper away. Russia glares at them as they run.

'Good. Leave.'

The others are quickly decapitated, and the dead start to dissolve. Russia shakes off the strange imagery. He smells the air and the stench of rot fades.

Russia relaxes a little and he leans over. America ducks under his arm.

"Hello," Russia mumbles, offering a sleepy smile.

"Let's get that shirt off of you to get some of that dealt with," America says, tugging Russia down.

Russia sits down and America sits behind him, tugging at the fabric. America mumbles something, and Russia glances at him curiously. America smiles.

"You guys are just going to sit down now?" Ukraine exclaims, his eyes wide.

"Fin?" Russia asks, "could you help him over here?"

Finland nods and takes Ukraine's arm, gently tugging him to Russia. Finland lets Ukraine go and Ukraine slumps to the ground. Russia looks up and opens his mouth to say comforting things when America takes the remains of his bloody shirt off and Ukraine gasps.

The color that was left in Ukraine's face drains.

Ukraine says something softly.

"What?" Russia asks, "what's wrong?"

"What happened to you?" Ukraine asks loudly, looking at Russia with teary, angry eyes.

----

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