Mondsüchtig-German origin; a person that is addicted to the night and especially looking at the moon.

There were many things Vladimir was known as or for, but vampire was not one of them. It was a common misconception he had to correct again and again. But then, it wasn't like his fang helped any, nor his strange taste in clothing and the mini Victorian hat on his head.

Really, just because his country was the origin of those bloodsucking creatures doesn't mean he had to be one. At the beginning it had been tolerable, but the repeated mistakes made by various people was starting to grate his mind. What made this even more exasperating was the fact that even his fellow countries view him as one of those night dwellers.

"Really," he had huffed to a empathic Bulgaria on a dreary afternoon while sipping tea, "it's not that hard to remember me as someone other than 'that vampire dude' or 'that one guy with a fang that may or may not be a vampire' or 'that half vampire nation'. It's not that hard."

Bulgaria had laughed in good faith, eyes twinkling as he answered that maybe it wasn't just his attire, but his personality as well that made people think that. "You have never been well known except for on a first name basis, it makes sense that they would think a mysterious person like you had something to hide."

Vladimir had snorted and quickly shot down that notion. What a preposterous thought! While he was slightly amused and thankful that his friend had the tendency to try and hide his laughter from him, even if it was a poor attempt, he couldn't deny that the notion bothered him, and made him miffed. To think that just because he wouldn't open up that easily to them that they would think such of him. How shallow.

But then again, for busy and dignified nations and countries like them, weren't first impressions always everything?

Contrary to popular belief, the personification of Romania was more than just a vampire-lookalike and a prissy high-end noble that his clothes deemed him to be. Granted, he prided himself as being elegant and gentlemanly (though not as much as a certain Brit, that was just pushing it), and he did find vampires themselves fascinating (for how could just one creature of the night become so popular in today's pop culture society), but there was more to him than just being the home of swampy bogs of fog and wild sheep.

If only the others had stopped to see.

Mist and fog swirled to create a thick blanket over the leafless thicket. The air was thick and heavy, the underlying scent of rain presented in the overgrowth. It had poured hours before, one of those warm humid rains that made moisture clung to everything, sagging what living skin and cloth it could find, and making it itch.

As Vladimir pushed through the leaf litter and brushed past a low-hanging branch, he slowed down to inhale the fresh air, not once twitching to show his discomfort. Many decades and centuries of living on this terrain and well as others had taught him the ways to avoid such sticky situations. As of now, he walked a path invisible to all but the most seasoned of travellers or experts of tribes that have made the bogs their home. He had dressed lightly, but not forgoing the ever-present top hat still situated on his head.

Noting the thickness of the mist, Vladimir made a mental note to avoid this area on the return trip home. It would rain again, but he sensed that this time would be different. The air was still humid, but the temperature was dropping, even though dawn would occur not more than an hour from this time. Navigating through the darkness, he caught the glimpse of an opening out of the thicket and went towards it. The trail started sloping upwards, and he followed eagerly. Emerging from an opening obstructed by several dead branches, he absentmindedly brushed off any dirt that caught on his burgundy coat and adjusted the tip of his top hat.

Leaving the wet grounds behind, Vladimir weaved through the thinning waves of fog and mist elegantly, eagerness quickly taking over his features. His strides became longer until he was nothing short of bounding across the long plains. His feet led him uphill and he soon found himself overlooking the edge of a hill. Gazing around him, Vladimir's seasoned eyes caught darker drifting shadows against the backdrop of the lightening sky. Seating down comfortably on the ground, he let out a grin of childlike wonder, single fang glinting and ruby eyes lifting to watch the stars fizzle out one by one.

Over the far horizon, where the last stars have vanished and the shadows have fled to seek darker refuge, a halo of orange began to envelop the distant Eastern Carpathian mountains. Bathed in a blinding aura, the mountains shone with an almost vaguely fuzzy appearance. Overhead, pastel blues and pinks streak across the clouds, trails of colour blazing from their wake.

Dawn had arrived, and it was a stunning sight.

Watching the ball of molten gold rise above the mountain ridges, Vladimir was indistinctly aware of his hand lifting and pressing against the left of his chest. How pleasantly strange. The personification fisted his palm against the side of his ribcage where his heart lay pounding in a rhythm of frantic one-two beats, his knuckles pressing firm against his frame. His mouth parted, and from the depths of his core a loud, spirited laugh boomed from his throat. Eyes lit with wonder, he grinned and revelled in the beauty that was the coming day.

Oh, how he loved this. He loved how something soeasylike a sunrise could make his blood pound like no other materialistic matter could. It just goes to show how little his fellow nations knew him. Often, most also associated him as a lover of darkness due to his vampirish appearance or even from the way he dressed. Ironic then, for Vladimir loved the sun and its warmth more than anything. He loved the day, of its blue tinted sky and emerald stained flora. Of its rust-shaded soil and lightly-coloured wildflowers, transparent breezes and liquid vapour, Vladimir loved them all. He did find comfort in the shadows, but it was always the day that drew him out in the end.

It was a love of his, but also one that bestowed upon him much amusement and embarrassment from those who knew. Bulgaria, for one, couldn't stop using it as a subject to poke fun at him with until he had been on the receiving end of the silent treatment for a week. His brother, Moldova, had commented once that "Big brother doesn't look like the type to like these kind of things, but I don't mind. It's kind of cute!" Needless to say, the smaller nation had been ignored in favour of a sulking older brother that day.

Still, Vladimir was thankful that a selected few knew and acknowledged the true him, as the man beneath the nation. No matter how much he wanted it to be otherwise, he knew loneliness was one thing that no one, living and breathing, could escape from. It made him happy, that he could count on some few trusted companions to be there in his hard times.

Ears snapping at the sound of crunching grass, Vladimir tensed imperceptibly, but relaxed immediately after spotting the cause of the disturbance. A distance away, a little girl wearing a cloak worn with age stood watching him quietly. Her hair was braided messily, and her clothes looked spun from sheepskin and cheap cloth. Definitely not a city girl. A gypsy perhaps, or from a tribe that lived in these hills and bogs. All in all, she didn't look more than eight.

Blinking, the nation kept his eyes on the little girl, gaze neither friendly nor annoyed, merely curious. Sure enough, the girl broke her connection with him after a few more moments, averting her head to the side, though he could glimpsed the stolen glances she gave him every once in a while.

"You have strange eyes, mister."

Ahh, and so she speaks. Vladimir smirked inwardly. Dipping his head slightly, he replied absentmindedly, not surprised at the conversation starter. "So I have been told."

"Papa says people seldom come up here. What are you here for?" the girl continued.

"Things." Shrugging his shoulders, Vladimir turned his gaze back to the sun, silence quickly calming the disturbed air. Sucking in a breath, he watched, his crimson eyes reflected back the orange rays directed at him.

"Beautiful right?" Twisting his head, he found the girl sitting down a few paces from him, small feet sprawling on the grass haphazardly in an unladylike fashion. "I see it sometimes when Papa brings me with him to take the sheep out."

"Really now?"

"Mmm, I love the colours in the sky. Papa tells me this is called the dawn. It means the new day." The girl clasps her hands together, a gesture meant to show happiness, and smiles. "I saw you looking at it just now. Do you like it too?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." Smiling back, Vladimir rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Is it silly of a grown man like me to like it?"

"No! Actually, I think it's cute. People should like beautiful things anyway." Giggling now, the girl batted away his worries with innocent reasoning only a child could have. "I like talking to you. People never come up here, so it's nice to have someone to talk with." Vladimir smiled, already taking a liking to this girl. Turning to the left, her forehead wrinkled quizzically, and she pointed to the a spot downwind of them. "There's someone there."

"Hmm?" Raising his head, Vladimir looked to the direction where the girl indicated. Past the end of the hill was a flatter patch of land, a plateau. Beyond that were more hills and forested areas. It was at the furthest edge of the plateau that he saw her. She was wearing a working dress beneath the cloak, and she had most definitely caught sight of him. Using his sharp-eyed vision, Vladimir was able to discern who the person was, and he had to prevent himself from drawing air sharply. At the far end, Ukraine stood watching him.

His border and hers met each other somewhere between the Carpathian mountains, but he would never had thought that the two of them would catch wind of the other like this, and by this far a distance, no less. Aware that his fellow neighbouring nation had already caught him looking, Vladimir was at a loss at what to do. The situation was not awkward, but the knowledge of them looking at the other intently was not completely pleasant either. Meanwhile, the young shepherd girl by his side was bursting with inquisitiveness.

"Mama says that we are not allowed to go down there to feed the sheep because it's called a border and we cannot go to the other side because that place is another country. Is that lady from there? Does she know you? She hasn't turned away from looking at us since just now." She prodded, childish eyes eager to know.

"We... sort of know each other, little one."

"Really? She is a very pretty lady." The girl's eyes held excitement and joy. Vladimir pondered amusingly at how she was sharp eyed enough to detect a person from so far away."Quick, say something! I want to see you talk to her."

"We are so far away, she can't hear u-"

"Hurry! Oh, what if she goes away? Do something!" The girl prompted, her face alight with childish glee. Under her intense gaze, Vladimir felt himself grow hot with embarrassment.

Raising a hand, he hesitantly waved to the distant figure near the other side of the plateau's edge. To his surprise, he saw her slowly raise a hand back. As if on cue, the wind chose this time to pick up the breeze, and the cloak was blown right off her head, exposing traces of wind-tousled shoulder-chopped blonde hair.

Even though he knew it was her, Vladimir found it hard to believe that it was his fellow nation herself that was standing there, watching him. It was only once he had visual confirmation that the woman was Ukraine herself that he had started at the fact that it really was her in the flesh. Russia's big sister, and he was waving to her, across his border, acting like it was completely ordinary for him to do so. Red burned his cheeks suddenly. It didn't help that what the shepherd girl said was partially true. Ukraine was beautiful, not that he would tell her of course.

Her nervousness and worries to be around other people and her strange and scary younger siblings overshadowed any of her good traits. But it was there, if you cared to see it. Just like him, he supposes; others would have to look underneath the exterior to see the wholly true and good parts of them.

"Why is your face red mister?" The shepherd girl's eyes lit up hopefully, having guess the reason for his flushed face. "You like her don't you? Oh, are you two going to get together? Are you going to tell her?"

"Haha, really funny little one. I don't even know her that well. We aren't really that close friends." Redness fading from his complexion, Vladimir fixed amused eyes on the young human. "Speaking of which, where are your parents, your father?"

"Oh no, Papa and the sheep!" Almost comically, the girl's eyes widened and she clamped a hand to her mouth. Scrambling up from her seat on the ground, she bounced impatiently on her feet, eyes darting to an unknown spot beyond the hill behind her. "Will I see you again mister?"

"Mmm, perhaps." Humming, the nation bent to pick a wildflower swaying in the breeze. Tucking it into the girl's hair, he winked at her playfully and gently shooed her away. "Hurry, you are going to be late."

"But I still don't know your name, and your lady friend's!"

"And I don't know yours. How about this, the next time we meet, we will exchange names."

"You promised." Breaking into a run, the girl turned back once shouted back to the male behind her. "Tell your lady friend that she is a very pretty lady, like Mama!" Laughing, she sprinted down the hill to return to her duty of guarding sheep, leaving a half-amused, half-embarrassed Vladimir behind.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Vladimir fixed his eyes back to the direction of the sky. During his conversation with the shepherd girl, the sun had risen marginally and was well past the tip of the mountains by now. The once quiet sky was also noisy and filled with the cries of early morning birds. Gazing forward, he noticed Ukraine still watching him. Even though she was so far away, he could glimpsed her tiny frame shaking with mirth, and it sent another small tinge of embarrassment through him. She couldn't have known what they were talking about, could she?

If he focused hard enough, he thinks he could hear her, her and her peals of laughter, tinkling like tiny bells singing the beginning of a new day. He thinks back to the words the little shepherd girl had uttered; "She's a very pretty lady, like Mama." and smiles.

Vladimir didn't know Ukraine at all. On the contrary, besides her human name (Yekaterina, he remembers that) and her being the sister of two eccentric siblings, he knew next to nothing about her and her life. But that didn't matter; it would change very soon, once he introduced himself properly. Perhaps he could invite her for tea and attempt to know her better. And once that was done, maybe he could introduced her to Bulgaria and little Moldova...

Friends, he liked the thought of them, kindred souls, being that.

The rising sun shone bright, and a ray of sunlight pierced the now fogless sky to land on the edge of the forested area behind him, the surrounding hills glinting gold.

A/N

What is terrain and geography? /sobs except not really/ I'm 78% sure I screwed up with the Romanian/Ukrainian border terrain thing.

Another inspired piece. I was surfing the Internet for great soul-piercing words and I found mondsüchtig. The first person who came into my mind was Romania so why not. Vladimir it was. Then I went on thinking about how everyone makes Vladimir a vampire or link him to something related to vampires in his stories and I decided I didn't want to do that. Thus I thought up some of his headcanons and after intensive writing, this happened.

Basically, headcanons say Vlad loves the sun, isn't a vampire, is elegant, has a down to earth personality, likes mildly sweet food, is a dork, and is willing to give his life for outstanding MAGIC TRICKS.

I like writing for Romania, he's cool. But this piece took so long as I kept withholding its process. I finished the last two thirds of it on one day while the beginning took me two long days. :/ Lazy, I am.

Notes:

Romanic Romania/Ukraine is not implied in this, other than being platonic...unless you want it to be. B)

I love putting in human characters to mingle with the hetalia nations, whether it is as friends to mess to their lives, or as passing strangers just to give advice to aid some part of their eternal lives. Sometimes, I make them both, or like the shepherd girl, I make them become budding friends/companions to the nations. After all, nations need company too, and not all can be gained from their fellow countries.