[Dream] ★ 002
The Boston before the meadows were covered with steel skyscrapers and before there was a constant smug over the sky was very halcyon sight. And little America, looking about ten or eleven appearance wise, waved a wooden sword in clumsy manner, trying hard to mimic what England had taught him last time. He hoped he could be good as him one day, but for that he must practice.
As soon as the fake sword hit against the tree trunk, it flew out of his hand. He grimaced and shook his hand, the shock subsiding as he did so. "Why did it -..."
"Your grip was incorrect, America." A amused voice answered. America instantaneously - smiled. That voice, it was definitely him!
"England! You're back!" He greeted his motherland (or fatherland, whichever you prefer) with a wholehearted tackle hug. The said nation stumbled before chuckling, lightly patting his head.
"America," his tone was more scolding now, "I have told you that you shouldn't do these things. They are unbecoming of a young gentleman."
America reluctantly stepped back, softly kicking the dirt as he did so. He mumbled. "I just missed you is all, gee." Then he noticed that England had yet another broken arm. His smile faded into a firm line. "...What happened England?"
"Just another quarrel with the Natives," this time it was him who smiled tiredly, "It's nothing you need to frown over." He hold out a his uninjured hand at him - beckoning America home. The conversation was officially over. America hated when he did that. Sure, he was small and a colony - but that didn't mean he couldn't help. Somehow...
"Let us go home."
America reached for the hand and clasped it. It was warm - so much so that he couldn't help but smile again.
"Yeah."
*You can't really see him since he's covered from head to toe in a big blanket, resembling a caterpillar. A sound breathing is heard though.*
[ooc: America is back to normal and he remember EVERYTHING. But that Thanksgiving thread is still going on so don't be shy about backlogging or something bb's!]