Before the arrival of Europeans, there was only one nation in the great land that would become America and Canada. With this one nation, there was a woman. Her name was First Nation, Native America, or just "mother".
She was the voice of her people, which spread from sea to sea across the abundant landscape; Western Subarctic, Eastern Subarctic, Arctic, Northeastern Woodlands, Great Plains, Plateau, Great Basin, and the Northwest Coast. All of it was hers.
She loved her people dearly and they loved her back. She spoke all twelve of the distinct language families of her First Nations people, including every dialect within those dozen. She showed her people how to treat the land, how to share and work together for the common good, and told them stories of how life came to be. Life in early North America was peaceful and grand.
But when First Nation found those little blond boys, she knew that life as she knew it was about to change. These boys were not Aboriginals like herself. They had pale skin that contrasted with the soft brown tone of her own. They had eyes the colour of the waters that she would canoe and fish in and hair the colour of the golden prairies that she would watch her people hunt buffalo in. They were different than her, new and unfamiliar, and yet she knew that they were important to what this land of hers would someday become.
They would grow, becoming more and more powerful. She couldn't say whether or not they would eventually wipe her out, but in that moment, they were nothing but innocent children with no one to care for them. First Nation knew this.
"Come," she murmured to the little boys, so similar and yet so different in their own beautiful ways. "I will keep you safe."
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I Am Canada (A Hetalia Fanfic)
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