Into the Woods

Read: I don't own Hetalia. That privilege belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya!

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                Arthur looked at the edge of the forest. He had on his cloak, the hood draped over his messy blonde hair that refused to sit down. He had been having the strangest dreams of entering the forest recently; it was almost as if it was calling him, wanting to tell him something.

                  A normal boy would have turned the other cheek, ignored it completely until they finally went into the forest, if only to get rid of the constant nagging from their sub-consious. But Arthur wasn't a normal person- he believed in, and could do, magic, and he had learned the hard way that ignoring your cravings could bring a life or death scenario. He shuddered at he memory; he didn't want that again.

                    He entered the forest, listening to the sounds that came with his entry; birds calling out and taking flight, bugs silencing themselves to remain hidden, smaller animals like mice darting to their homes for safety. England sighed, guilt weighed over him- the forest shouldn't have to be quiet for it's safety. The depleting forests around the world had been dying faster than they could grow, and the poor guardians of said forests had cried out in agony, warning all others to not let anyone in.

                  So that's what they did. 5 years ago, every forest in the world decided to deny  humans access to their beauty, and any one who tried to come in anyway died by either magic or the guardians. Only people with magic could enter, and that was rare even among those people. Britain had been allowed entry to the forest closest to his home, a breath-taking forest full of life and green. But every time he entered, the animals hid as if he were the personification of their problems. When he was here the first time, he asked the forest guardian why they did that, and he had answered, "The forest has been greatly mistreated by your kind. They don't know who is good, and who is not when someone new comes in. Every time you enter, assure them that you are their friend by singing the melody of the forest."

                 "But what is the melody of the forest, Vanvester?" he had asked.

                  "Only your heart knows, Arthur. If you sing from there, all the animals will know that you are their friend."

               Arthur smilled fondly at the memory. He took a small breath, then began singing. He never sang in english, his native language, or any other language known to man-kind. He always sang in the language of the forest, the one he spoke when he was here. He pulled all the strings of his voice perfectly; he may not have been able to cook, but he could sing worth millions. The only reason he wasn't a celebraty was because that much publicity for a country was bad. Countries never died. Plus, Britain hated the gossip that went around the public about a celebraty. He would much rather stay at home, sipping his tea.

               He walked towards the heart of the forest, knowing that that was where Van would be. He smiled as the forest's sounds began to start again, getting louder as he sang. He came to a stop when he heard no more quiet, and laughed. "Welcome back, forest." he said in his thick British accent.

                The forest hummed louder in response, and Arthur continued on his way to the center of the forest. He jumped off of a large log that he had climbed up on, landing on a patch of grass. A river, free of pollution because of nature's act of self-conservation ( other parts of the world had denied humans access to their stuff { like oil not letting itself get mined, and the sky not letting factries run and polute it } , too. )  ran aross England's path, blocking his way.