Russia wakes up to the sound of engines and smells people and diesel in the air. His heart lodges itself into his throat and he springs up. Shooting pain enters his paws and his legs ache, but he refuses to stop.
'Shit! SHIT! I have to move. I have to move!'
He snatches up the closest person to him. He dully notes that the magic around them seems to flicker.
'If it's flickering, why aren't they any different?'
Russia shakes his head and the noises get closer.
'Fuck! I don't have enough time to run far enough away.'
Russia growls at himself, clawing at his ears and face.
'Why did I have to fall asleep?!'
The sound of yelling snaps him out of his reverie and he scrambles.
'I have to hide. I have to hide them.'
Russia sprints up the largest tree in his eyesight, laying the statue out onto some of the branches, his thoughts reeling. He scans the branches and finds that there is a place closer to the top with an almost flat platform grown into the tree. He grabs his passenger and bounds up the few extra meters.
He places them to the wood, careful to make sure that they're stable in their placement.
'Are they going to- No, they have to wake up. They have to be okay.'
Russia pushes his body faster. His heart pounds, his mind spins, and his stomach clenches. His paws leave behind a bloody mess, but he finds that the dew covers it enough. The bark of the tree pulls at his claws and digs into the cuts on his feet.
He growls at himself when his legs start going limp against the bark, almost causing him to go spilling to the unforgiving ground. He shakes.
'I still have more to move, I can't stop. I can't leave anyone behind.'
He climbs up and drops off his cargo, trying desperately to fight against the clock as he smells the people getting closer and closer.
He can almost see them when he drops to the ground and grabs Brazil, the last of the group on the ground. He claws at the branches.
His paws suddenly cramp only a short way up, and he falls back.
'This isn't high enough to turn around.'
Russia tenses in preparation for his landing.
He spills onto his back, trying to protect Brazil as best as he can. His back pulses as he turns to get up. His whole body demands he stop, but panic forces him into the tree. He scrambles up, his legs bending painfully to catch his stumbling.
He just manages to make it into the platformed area when he hears the loud talking and radio chatter.
"Boss, we're here. We aren't seeing anything in sector 5R," someone says into what Russia can only assume is a radio.
"You should b_. That __ __er_ the magic is track___" the response comes through radio static.
'Tracking magic?!'
Russia turns and spots America propped up against the trunk.
'Were they tracking him?'
Russia snarls.
'Those bastards.'
Russia shifts to make himself more comfortable and flinches at the pain that radiates from every inch of his body. The wood and pine needles are soaking wet, but Russia finds that it's better than being down there.
Then, he makes eye contact with one of the soldiers. His heart stops.
'I can't fight right now. I can't.'
Russia growls loudly, bearing his teeth. The other soldiers whip their heads up to him and stare, and the talking goes silent.
Then, they start scanning the surrounding trees.
Russia hisses as loudly as he can, standing. He ignores the pulling and burning in his limbs.
'I won't have to fight if I can scare them off.'
His heart races and fear takes hold of his mind.
'Please be scared.'
He stalks on the thicker tree branches.
'Please don't fall. I can't fall. Please don't shoot. Please don't come any closer.'
Russia yowls loudly, and the group jolts. He leans forward on his twisted joints and pain burns through his mind. Russia's fur puffs up to make him look twice his size and he hisses again, his claws digging into the tree bark.
'Please just leave. Please.'
"Boss," one of the soldiers says slowly, "I think... I think we've been chasing a monster."
The soldiers begin to back up, and Russia creeps closer to make sure they retreat.
"What kind? We have the signature."
"One big enough to rip the POV's apart and eat all of us," Another says.
"Well, if it wanted to, it would have already."
Russia's heart drops.
'I don't want to fight, I don't have the energy to. I can't win.'
The soldiers look back at him and step forward slowly.
'But this is my chance to get them away from us.'
Russia hops down and ignores the shooting pains the landing causes. He narrows his eyes and growls.
The soldiers jump back, looking horrified.
"Is that thing covered in blood?!"
"SHH!"
Russia hisses again, his ears pinned back and his teeth bared. He snaps at the people that were just out of reach.
"Retreat slowly," one of them announces, "if we leave it alone, we'll be okay."
"This lead is to an aggressive monster," another relays into the radio.
'Please believe it. Please.'
Russia hisses louder and grabs one of the soldiers by the arm. He swings it around before dropping it. He yowls and takes a quick step toward them. They scrambled back into their cars, and the injured one was helped up.
"You are no longer to follow that magic sig______. There are oth___ closer to base that _ay be more promis___."
Russia yowls and jumps forward into the headlights of one of the vehicles, causing all of them to speed away. Russia watches them go before collapsing to the ground, heaving. He slowly forces himself back onto his feet and he stumbles to the base of the tree. He stares up to the platform.
The height is intimidating and sickening to look at.
'I can't leave them alone up there.'
Russia struggles up and manages to get to the ledge onto the platform when his legs start to give out.
'No nono!'
Russia tries desperately to pull himself up, only to lose his grip and he barely manages to land on his feet. He stares back up at the tree and his stomach clenches.
'I don't have the energy to get back up there.'
Russia swallows, his ears flat to his head and his tail between his legs. He meows sadly. He curls around the trunk, laying his head down on the wet grass for a moment before forcing himself back upright.
'I have to try to keep them warm.'
Russia takes a few steps back before jumping up to hold. He almost misses. He scrambles onto it and lays on it, gasping through the pain.
'Almost there.'
Russia stands again and reaches out. He manages to just brush against the ledge of the platform. Russia takes a deep breath and jumps.
'Please! Please.'
He scrambles up and collapses into a heap on the edge. He watches the others, their frozen faces burn into his memory.
'Just think of them as statues. Just like before,' Russia tells himself, 'it's easier that way.'
'Then I don't have to imagine that they're just dead. Because they can't be. It's just magic, it has to be. They can't be gone.'
Russia lays his head down, his nose scrunched and his thoughts weigh down on him.
'What if they are dead? What if only one of them wakes up? What then? Did I not do enough to keep them safe and warm? Having I been hurting the others to carry around dead bodies?'
Russia snarls at his thoughts.
'Even dead, people deserve the respect of having their bodies retrieved.'
The bumps and bruises he imagines on them due to his rough handling cause his mind to get heavier. The cold they must have suffered while he was trying to move them sinks back into Russia's thoughts.
'Could I have been more careful? Would that have helped?'
Russia growls. He nuzzles Texas, and the static feeling returns.
'I have magic. Could I...?'
'I don't want to risk making it worse!'
Russia stares at the bodies, 'statues', in front of him.
'But waiting hasn't made difference. What if waiting is killing them?'
Russia wishes that he could cry or beg or do something to call out for help. But he knows that the only people who would answer were the people trying to hurt him and his family.
'What would Dixie say? What would my father think?'
Russia stares at the stiff bodies of South Carolina and Alabama.
'I failed.'
Russia shuts his eyes in grief and listens for anything around. He feels his hunger fade as his emotions pull his heart to pieces.
'I have to try harder. I have to make sure everything turns out okay. I have to.'
Russia's eyes slide shut, and he doesn't have the energy to reopen them.
'I'm so tired.'
'I'm sorry.'