East Bound - Russia x Germany

Duo to Trio - I'm Officially Demoted

I ought to be ashamed of myself. I basically gambled with the lives of my friend and I. We were as good as dead, too. How foolish, how rash of me to waddle out of the car and into the unknown nothingness without the slightest clue of where to go. General direction did not count, since I didn't know how far till Tiksi, our next stop. The snow threatened to engulf us silently, freezing us into preserves, hauntingly alike to tomatoes and berries father keeps in his freezer during the autumn months. It was just like that, slipping into the darkness, like the one that was all around us. If only not for a magical miracle. Her.

Her name is Yakutia. She was an old friend of mine that I befriended during my time in Cherskii. Get over the fact that she smells like blubber and fat, she had a wise cracking humour and a lion's heart, her bravery knew no bounds. I didn't even know she lived here, and it was pure chance that we encountered. I didn't think we'd ever meet after we parted. As all other times in my life, I shrugged her off, like countless others. I was glad that she didn't kick memories of me to the curb as I did. 

I was out of my mind, yelling out of desperation, begging for someone to come help us. I saw Germany succumb to tiredness and feared that happening to me. A slight shadow nearing me made me even more hasty than before, and I screamed at the top of my aching lungs. "Please! Help!"

"Rossiya?" A whole line of samoyed dogs came into view, dragging along a deerskin sled. A short girl, her head ringed by fur came into view, kneeling down beside me. "Rossiya, you?"

"Yes," I really didn't care who it was. Get me out of here, I thought miserably.

"Remember me, Rossiya?" She whispered, ruffling with my ushanka. Her playful dark eyes gleam. Starkly contrasting the snow, they were pure black. The circle on her face brought back a whole new set of memory.

"Yakutia," I gasped. I probably looked pathetic, laying in the snow, but I never minded. She nodded vigorously, kneeling beside me. 

"Yes, come on." She takes my hand and leads me to her sled.

"What about....?"

"Your friend." She finishes for me, puffing from the weight. "Boy Rossiya, your friend is heavy!"

"He's not from here," I'm suddenly defending my friend. Germany gives a small groan. At least he's alive, that's good. She put him in the back and made me sit up front with her.

"I got that part," she snickered. "You're not ever friends with locals." She shuffled with her brown fur hat. "Just good luck that my dogs wanted to come out and I didn't feel lazy."

"Yeah, good luck." My teeth chatted beyond control. It didn't even sound like a sentence, more like a garble. Yakutia must've heard much, because she shook her head, took the reigns from her sled and gave a loud shrieking signal that made her dogs move.

"Poshla!" And the place where we just where disappeared from view. All around was uniformly white, cold, and strange. The whole time my old friend yammered on and on about something I didn't even register. All I felt was relief and warmth. I didn't lead us to a dead end, I was able to weasel out of this predicament. How long my lucky streak would last was a matter of Pozhivem Uvidem, or we'll live to see.

"What in the world are you doing out here?" She turned to me with a smile on her face. In the bright atmosphere, you could make out the silver gleam of a crown on the bottom canine tooth. "I thought you were finished here."

"I was," I didn't look at her. "Apparently, experience isn't over."

She gave a bark of laughter. "I knew you would come back!"

"How is that?" I asked sweetly. I regarded her an older friend than all of my others combined. If someone asked me, 'who is your oldest friend?' I would say Yakutia, not Japan or America, or even my primary school friends with whom I miraculously have stayed in contact.