He And His Dog

prologue

A small lake cut through the forest, trees pointing high up to the sky. Ancient mountains shadowed the land, their tops lost in the few clouds that circled the bright sun.

The lake, clear enough to see the stones and algae beneath, rippled as a small water snake swam through it. It desperately tried to blend in with its surroundings, trying its best to stay hidden.

A heron stood at the edge of the pool, its beady eyes watched the snake flail about. About to snatch the creature from the water, it instead flew away in fear; a black and white border collie came bounding into the area, barking to scare the heron off.

"Calm down, Oreo," An American voice chuckled, "You don't need to scare it off. I mean, there's no real reason to."

An averagely heighted man followed the dog, standing straight with his head held high. Dark, cracked sunglasses rested on his forehead, revealing his ocean blue eyes. A large scar cut right down across his face, it didn't bother him though. He wore a bulky grey coat rimmed with fur, an American flag sewn to the sleeve, and pockets going all down the sides of the jacket. His jeans were ripped and a faded blue colour, which led down to a pair of heavy but practical boots. A large shotgun was strapped to his old black backpack, it was well polished and shiny.

Overall his features were refined and sharp. He looked strong and was strong, his upper body showed that clearly.

The dog, Oreo, spun around and circled America gleefully, yapping in excitement. America fell back as Oreo leaped onto his chest, licking America's face. America squeezed his eyes shut, a grin across his face.

"Jesus, Ore-" America was cut off when Oreo tried to start licking his eyes and mouth. America snickered and sat up, pushing the dog off as he opened his eyes. He flicked the glasses down, hiding part of the scar.

Oreo sat with his tongue sticking out, the dog's tail rapidly wagging. Oreo was always this enthusiastic when they got to a nice location; or, at least, when America began to smile.

Oreo was a large black and white border collie; he had long fur and small but wide eyes, and floppy ears. His fur was silky, with some patches of dirt here and there. Bandages covered one of the dog's front legs, from an injury long ago - America still hadn't dared to take it off, afraid if it hadn't healed yet or not.

"We'll set up here for the night, how 'bout that?" America suggested, the dog seemed more likely to spring onto America again. After a minute, America looked to the lake behind Oreo. "Do you wanna go for a swim?"

The dog didn't need anything more than that sentence. He scrambled up and dived into the lake, swimming about and scaring any possible life below.

America chuckled once more as he lugged the bag to the ground, unzipping it and pulling his belongings from it. This included a small sleeping mat and a thin sheet he used as a duvet.

As he laid the items on the grass below him he watched Oreo leap from the water and shake all the water from his body, with a long green creature in the dog's mouth. It was the water snake. America sighed.

"Put that back, now," America told Oreo sharply, "That's not for us to eat."

Hesitantly, the dog dropped the snake to the ground as it writhed back into the water, Oreo slowly dragged his feet to sit beside America. America wrapped an arm around Oreo's shoulders, looking up at the sun which began to set over the mountains.

Dark blue hues of shadows invaded the place, leaving them both in darkness. That was until America stood up and scanned the area for any kind of wood. Oreo obviously tried to help, fitting several small sticks into his mouth while America held decently sized branches.

"Good boy, Oreo," America praised the dog, motivating Oreo further. Oreo continued to collect sticks and dropped them on America's sleeping mat, to America's dismay - Oreo was smart, but he didn't get the concept of a sleeping area and a fireplace. They weren't the same things.

America began to stack the wood a few metres from his bed, Oreo sitting beside him and watching him do so. America soon dug through his backpack and pulled out a box of matches and lit one; he then threw it onto the wood, soon creating a searing fire that radiated heat. America held his palms to the fire, loving the warmth. Oreo began to lay beside the fire and close his eyes, exhausted from their day of travels. America looked over to the dog, and ruffled his fur.

"Sleep well," America muttered, "We have another long  day of travel tomorrow. Just until we find a place that's worth staying with a few other countries."

The dog groaned and buried his muzzle in his paws, America grinned and sat on his own bed. He looked to the last of the reds that began to disappear over the mountains and hills, then looked up to the first stars in the sky.

America wondered what it'd be like if his family were still around - he couldn't say he missed them, because he didn't remember them. He'd always been like this. He'd always been with Oreo, he had always travelled every day, for what reason? He was sure there were a group of countries out there who would accept him as family. He hoped so, anyway.

It was probably unlikely, though. Most of the countries were either dead or injured from the war years ago - now there were barely any of them left, and if there were, they were in hiding. Hiding from the more powerful countries, like America. Like America's father.

But with all considered, he didn't mind travelling around like this. He wasn't all that alone because of Oreo, and he got to see things that he would've never seen before the war.. and he didn't need to pay off a house any time soon. Which was great.

As long as he wasn't lonely, he had food and he was happy, it didn't matter.

Because it was just he and his dog, and nobody else.