Hetalia Hunger Games pt. 4

I couldn't help but gleam as the voice came off the speakers.

'France, Canada, America; they're still alive!  Now all I have to do is search for them.'

Journeying into the icy shadows of the trees, I kept my bow in hand just in case.  Running across a small cave, I stuck my head inside, to find a resting country lying on the floor.

'Turkey?  I better kill him before he wakes up.'

Kneeling down next to him, I removed an arrow from my quiver, and stabbed it through his eye.  Hollering in pain, I kept shoving the sharp item until it stuck out the other side of his head.  Ceasing any movement, I sighed and placed the arrow back in its holder.  Deciding to settle down, I laid the four new packs side by side.  Unzipping one, it contained a canteen filled to the brim with water, and a steel knife.  Opening up another bag, what sat inside were a piece of what I thought was deer meat, a small case filled with some sort of healing ointment, and a blanket.  The third duffel contained a pistol, and ten bullets, while the fourth bag had absolutely nothing.  

'Well, I'm set for a while.  Now all I need to do is find my family.'

Cuddling up with the cotton blanket, I gradually felt my eyelids begin to lower.

'You've made it is far, now don't do something bloody stupid and screw it up.'
~

As I awoke from my slumber, I heard the crunching of autumn leaves outside the cavern.  Preparing my bow, I stepped outside in search of the sound.  Shooting an arrow in the direction of the noise, I heard an outburst of pain.  Grinning, I followed the path my arrow took, until I was face-to-face with my worst nightmare.

"France!"

Hearing the sound of my voice, the wounded man looked up from the ground, and smiled at me.  The weapon skinned his left leg, red ooze dripping out of the wound.  Bending down, I hoisted the man onto my shoulder, and quickly carried him back to the cave.  Placing him down on the rock floor, he grimaced while eyeing the cut.

"I-Is it bad?"

Pulling out the cream, I slowly began to rub it on the scratch.  Shaking my head, I viewed him sigh in relief.

"No, you're lucky I missed.  Does it sting?  Have any weapons?"

France chuckled lightly as I capped the case closed.  Placing it back in my pack, I observed him rotate his neck from side to side, answering both my questions.  Loading up the gun, I tossed it to the Frenchman.

"You'll need that…H-Have you seen America or C-Canada?"

Limping towards me, he enclosed my body in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry, mon petit lapin, I haven't.  I'm just so glad I found you!"

Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I felt streams of water roll down my face.  Pulling away, France stroked the droplets with back of his palm.

"Why the tears, Angleterre?  Did something happen?"

'I can't tell him about Russia, he'll feel disgusted with me.'

"N-No, I'm just happy to see you."

It wasn't a total lie, but I still felt guilty about the entire thing.  Beaming, he pulled me back into a hug, and released his own tears.  Pushing him away lightly, I reached for my duffel, and handed him the loaf of bread.

"Here, I doubt you've eaten since this damn thing's started.  Why don't you have some sort of protection?"

France examined the dough, and looked up at me with agony in his eyes.

"Oh Angleterre, there's no way I can eat this; it belongs to you.  You see, after the sirens went off, I didn't run towards the Cornucopia like everyone else.  I sprinted in the opposite direction, which might have proven not to be the smartest move."