At last, I can finally hit that "Complete" button. I'm literally writing this the night before Thanksgiving... in fact, Thanksgiving is in an hour... crap. I better hurry... Eh. It'll be done eventually... this epilogue is rather short.
It also includes some things that you might just recognize! ;D
Again, thank you so much for reading! This fic was just something for me to do instead of chores at first, but you guys certainly kept me going! Thanks! Now I'm rewriting my original novel that I started in Middle School. Maybe I'll get it published... hmm...
Have a Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

"Gah... blasted Netherlands..." the blond nation mumbled, wiping dirt off his chin. He sat underneath a tree, hidden from the scorching sun. "He could have just left us alone; it was only a small fight," he said to himself. He, Finland - along with Sweden and Germany - had built a small town along the coast of the New World. They started idly chatting about the Dutch nation before he actually showed up with only a hatchet and a temper. "Scared all the villagers, not to mention myself." Finland glanced around the meadow. "I hope that young boy is okay - ow!"

Scooting away from the trunk of the tree, Finland looked up into the branches. "Auts! What was that?" he asked aloud. Another acorn was chucked out of the tree in his direction. "Lopeta! Lopeta! Stop!" Finland shouted, hiding his head in his lavender vest. There was a loud caw from the lowest branch as a third acorn was flung towards the nation. "Ow! Foolish bird," he said, crawling away from the tree. "Today is not my day."

Finland wandered through the thick grass, staring at the blue sky. He knew that there were other nations trying to claim the land for themselves - he was too, to be honest. Everyone wanted a piece of the New World at this point, but the strong empires would probably be the ones to truly fight for it.

The blond Fin reached the stream that twisted through the valleys. Just where he last saw them... there they were. The "strongest empires on Earth." Trying to catch fish with their bare hands as they argued.

"You look like a girl with that hair, frog."

"You resemble une caterpillar, Angleterre."

"Do not!"

"Faire trop!"

Yeah, these are the two that will conquer the world, Finland thought as he waded through the water. "Oi! Good afternoon!" he greeted politely.

France pulled his hands out of the water and wiped his long, blond hair behind his ear. "Oh, bonjour, Finland," he answered before raising a brow. "Mon Dieu, what happened to you?" he asked, gesturing to the Fin's bruised and battered face.

"Did you trip or something?" the British nation asked, climbing out of the stream barefoot.

Finland sighed. "No... Sweden and I built a villa a few miles north of here since we plan on starting a colony... but Netherlands came and, well," he paused, rubbing his lower back. "He kicked our butts, to tell the truth."

The Western European's drawled out a few "sorry's" and "that's too bad" and "this land is going to be mine anyways" before Finland continued on with a roll of his eyes.

"Have you guys seen a little boy around here? I keep finding him in the most odd of places. He doesn't seem to have a home."

England pulled his shoes out of his bag and slid them on while adjusting his coat. "Well, we see a lot of children around of course. They run around playing all the time - why would this boy be different?" he asked, kicking France's shoes into the stream.

"I've been seeing him since I arrived here three years ago. This boy hasn't aged a day," Finland replied seriously. France and England exchanged looks. "Do you think that he could be...?"

"Mon petite frere!" France cried happily, sliding England's bag into the water. "I knew big brother France would rise again!"

The Brit shoved him hard. "He's not your 'little brother'!" Walking up the bank to where Finland stood, England placed a hand on his shoulder. "If you think he could be a potential new nation, we should probably split up to find him. You two go look in town, I'll search the meadows," he declared boastfully.

France scoffed and approached behind him. "Non, I will search the meadow. You go look in town, Angleterre. You might scare the boy with your ridiculous eyebrows."

"How about I go look in town and you two, I don't know, take one half each?" Finland suggested, pushing the agitated powers apart.

~.~.~

England kicked the pebbles at his feet. Finland had boldly stepped between the feud between himself and the frog, and convinced him to search the land along the stream. The Brit didn't even remember when they crossed paths in the first place and why they were fishing right next to each other. Running a hand through his messy blond hair, England sighed.

"A new nation... what a load of rubbish... there's no way that -"

He stopped.

In front of him was a bird. A large bird.

Its eyes were gold and its head was feathered white. England didn't move a muscle as he stared at the bald eagle that stood just a mere few meters away. The eagle cocked its head from side to side curiously and spread its wings once and flapped in the nation's direction, letting out a long, echoing call.

Taking a step back, England had an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. "No, that's impossible... It's been decades, you can't be..." He stumbled backward and shook his head. "I'm dreaming, you're not real... Dammit Kwahu! You're not real!" The nation gripped his hair and slammed his forehead against his knees. His chest began to hurt as memories of the past flicked into his mind. The eagle hopped closer to him until it was near enough to nip at the stray pieces of hair. "Please, Kwahu. I'm not that Arthur anymore..." England whispered quietly to the bird. "He... he's gone," the Brit choked out, his eyes watering.

There was a light tug on his coat from behind him. England lifted his face from his knees to find that the bald eagle had disappeared. Sucking in a breath, the nation turned around and stared into the face of the young boy. His cheeks were sun-kissed, and his eyes were wide and bluer than the sky itself. England covered his mouth as he noticed the golden hair that stuck out above his cowlick.

"Excuse me, sir," he said in a light voice, eyes brimming with tears. "Please don't cry, I'm here! You aren't alone anymore, okay? We can play together!"

Ѿ Ѿ Ѿ

A WILD AMERICA APPEARED.

This is so sad to write when you're listening to the Thor 2 soundtrack. So this is what comes out of just 60 minutes of writing with a few distractions. Apparently now I'm working today (it's Thanksgiving now) from noon to eight. So I'll be missing Thanksgiving dinner with my family D:

But I hope, even if you don't live in the United States, that you still enjoy and be thankful for this Thursday. Have a wonderful day and thank you thank you thank you!