Book 3 - Retrievers

XLVIII - Cave Dwellers

*I was going to finish this digitally, but I am currently mentally exhausted and lost motivation, so fuck it. I included most of the characters, so I win. I hope y'all enjoy.*

The wind howls outside. Long sticks scrape against the walls of the cave. Russia cringes at the noise. The cave holds the heat better than Russia expected. Russia continues purring, and he curls up a little more, trying his best to conserve his heat.

Most of the states begin to disperse.  Four people stay against him, and New Mexico begins peaking around the wall next to his head. Russia's fur prickles as a violently shivering Florida buries himself in between Russia's back leg and his body.

'He must be freezing.'

Mexico takes the jacket and boots that America had grabbed from their campsite.

'It must be the stuff I took off.'

'...now I can't even wear shoes. I like shoes.'

Russia pouts a little and turns his head to the outside. He squints against the wind. Warmth trickles out from above his head. He tries to lay his head down again, but tree branches crash together and his ears perk up.

His head pokes up again and he glances at the whipping tree branches.

Suddenly, he feels shifting against his fur, and Texas' hat pokes into Russia's side. Russia almost starts nudging him over when Alabama catches his eye and shakes his head vehemently.

"(Don't wake him up. Please,)" Alabama signs frantically.

"Don't wake him up," Mississippi says, sitting in front of America.

Russia nods and settles on his legs, trying not to jostle Florida or Texas. He turns back outside, but he still listens to the conversations behind him.

"Is Texas okay?" America asks cautiously, holding his light in front of his face.

"Well... not really. He hasn't been sleeping."

"Like York's not sleeping or..?"

"He don't even take naps. This is the first time he been sleepin' since y'all left."

America's face falls and his head tilts down.

"I didn't.._____"

Russia tries to focus on America's mouth, but can't read the words. America makes a weird noise and the blue light flickers. Russia resists the urge to rush over and begins purring to comfort himself.

"Dad!" Mississippi exclaims, grabbing America by his shoulders.

"America?" Ukraine asks.

"Sorry, my magic... I just.... I'm tired."

Mississippi helps America lie down while New Mexico, Ohio, and Kansas crowd around them, panicking a little. Ohio takes off his backpack and lays it on the ground for America to lay down on. Kansas digs a blanket out of his bag. The blanket is small but better than nothing.

The siblings wrap America up in the blanket. It doesn't cover his feet.

Another gust of wind.

A loud crack.

Russia's whiskers bend back and he flinches away.

His field of vision outside the stones is completely cut off, save for small holes from which moonlight leaks in between the leaves above his head. All the wind sounds muffled and sticks dig into Russia's side. Russia yowls, but he doesn't move away.

'I don't want to risk hurting anyone. I could squish them if I panic.'

His fur grows wet with blood. He turns his head back and finds himself covered in leaves and branches. He feels them dig into his skin and his purring takes on a different pitch as he tries to ignore the pain.