⋆ Starry Night Stroll ⋆

⋆On an easy moon-set night, Poland was strolling through the streets of his empty city trying to shake off the feelings of WW2. He was irritated, depressed and bored. Nothing to do and surely no one to see. Ever since Russia gave him a chance to get away from it all he has been in serious isolation. And apparently he liked it. – or it started out like that.

⋆He eventually came to a stop on a hill and looked up at the brightly lit night sky. Littered here and there with small balls of fire known as Stars which could have easily been mistaken for God's nightlight by some passing dumbass.

⋆He purses his lip sighing heavily as he dipped his head, and roughly beat his battered up wings. Normally he walked instead of flying since he felt his wings to be more of an accessory than a useful tool.

⋆But for now he decided to use them; beating his battered wings harder and harder by the second, he was soon airborne and flew over to his once favorite plant, the willow Tree.

⋆Now perched within the Willow's lanky branches and oddly shaped leaves swaying quietly in the wind, the winged country shifts and brushes his back up against the bark.

⋆He was comfortable, and the night was cool and quiet. Just the way he wanted it for once. Moments like these he wish would happen more often... the time to reflect on the past without constant chaos around him shattering his concentration felt so...relieving.

⋆Shortly after a bit he has fallen asleep. Legs closed, wings folded in, and his hoodie resting over his face as the Willow's swaying leaves shield him from prying eyes.

⋆Hours of calmness, and relaxation pass by as Poland spends his time in the dream world. Soon enough he opens his eyes – and pulls a notebook from out of his bag. It was a creamy-peach colored note book decorated with sparkles and stars.

⋆Topped off with the words, 'I'm a Dreamer.' He opens it and flips through the pages until he finds a blank one, pulling a pen out of the spiraled-lock on the side of the notebook.

⋆Instead of plunging into war, Poland really wanted to start on Art or Poetry but never had the chance. Anxiety and Depression was all he felt now.

⋆If he couldn't escape and vent until his hearts-content then he normally fell into his drinking phase. His wings would beat out of irritation and frustration now, as he clutched his pen and stopped writing. His mind had slipped into negativity.

⋆At once he felt caught off-guard, unhappy and unsure what to do now. He buries his face in his knees hugging them close. There was no one there to pull him up or close. No one to encourage or tell him it was going to be okay.

⋆It was only him and apparently he was losing... without thought or word, he'd thrust his wings down and sob. Cursing and mumbling to and against himself for being so stupid.

⋆How could he have let all of this happen...

⋆He had built a wall around himself and he wasn't going to be taking it down anytime soon.