The empty seat was unnerving, to say the least. England let his eyes flick discreetly from the still unoccupied chair to the rest of the nations, who were arguing and fighting their hearts out. Russia was sending his his customary aura of hatred at America, who was in an odd screaming match with China. France was being his usual love-obsessed self, Japan was silently skimming over some papers that looked to be suspiciously placed to hide a manga issue, and Italy...
Well, he wasn't actually there; Romano was. The much more pleasant Italian twin had gone and broken his leg and a couple ribs from a 'normal' football match with his equally competitive brother, and was thus staying home to recover. And that left the Englishman rather alone in his musings over the chair still neatly tucked into the head of the table.

Germany, the most punctual, responsible, and mature member of the G8 was nowhere to be seen. No call telling of a sudden complication in his schedule, no horrendous traffic anywhere near the most logical and time saving routes to take to get to the meeting hall, nothing but a vacant spot in the room that should be filled and steering their energies back to the actual meeting and problems that need fixing. The taller blond should be there, no problem, but it had almost been an hour since the meeting 'began'. There was something wrong, here, and England didn't like it.

"Alright, you gits, belt up and go home!" the Brit finally snapped. They may be scheduled to convene for another two hours, but without the German, nothing was getting done, and they knew it. For once, the group of countries listened to the short island nation without grumbling or being generally unpleasant. The room was empty in seconds, England sitting irately in his chair and silently thinking over his own plans for the day.

'Let's see... The vegetable garden has been needing a little weeding as of late. The herb garden, too. And wasn't I getting ready to try another blend of herbs with that lemon rind? There was also that Hoodoo book of spells and charms that I wanted to finish,' he thought leisurely, calmly packing up his papers and leaving the meeting room at a slower, more relaxed pace then the other nations. Then the face of a much taller blond came into his mind's eye. 'Germany... What could that prat be doing? The meeting was even in Berlin, cor blimey!' Arthur huffed angrily, looking down at his watch; it was barely past noon back home, but he didn't feel it too much since it was only a one hour difference.

"That's it," the Brit grunted to himself, leaving the neat diplomatic building with a certain kind of determination. "If that wanker can't bother to show up to a meeting at his own place, he'd better be keeling over!" England was ticked off, almost stomping down the sidewalk on his self-imposed mission. Said mission: find Germany, find out just why he was a no-show, then curse his sorry arse into the next century if it wasn't up to standards.

It wasn't hard to find the German's house; months of occupying the city after WWII ingraining the location of several places in Arthur's mind. The small, tidy building was pleasant, a potted plant sitting neatly by the door on the tiny porch. There was no sign of Ludwig as far as the outside of the house. After several irate minutes of pounding on the door with only the sound of dogs barking coming from inside, plan B came into effect. That meant England was going inside, and the spare key sitting under said plant was going to let him in.

"Alright, you insufferable git! What the bloody hell were you thinking!" the small Englishman roared as he slammed open the door. He was met with silence. Well, the dogs were still barking and whining from their kennels in the small area by the front door, but not a single remotely human noise came. The Brit looked at the dogs in slight contemplation. Their food bowls were bare; odd, considering how much Germany cared about his dogs. England felt the beginnings of real worry tug at his mind as he opened the kennels.

The dogs swarmed around him, and being rather large dogs, they could have easily knocked the island nation over. Sniffing and yipping, the three canines scratched at a large plastic tub, and from the wagging of their tails when the lid was cracked, he knew it was most definitely their kibble. Pouring a hefty scoop of the dog food into each bowl, he let a concerned frown pull on his lips.

"You're master didn't come feed you, yet?" he murmured, letting his hand stroke the largest dog as it ate. This was getting worrisome; Germany would never shirk his responsibilities, especially to his dogs! "Do you know where Germany is?" the Brit almost crooned, not expecting much from the hungry animals. The oldest dog, however, lifted its head from the food bowl like it understood the question. England almost smirked at his newly found Germany detection method.

"Come on, where's Germany! Go find Germany!" he encouraged, his hands on his thighs as he bent down to the dog's level. His ears perked, a little bit of excitement in the canine's brown eyes. "Go on, take me to Germany!" The dog complied, scampering over to the stairs and waiting at the first step for the shorter blond to catch up. England was lead up the stairs, down the small hallway, and to a slightly ajar door at the end. The dog refused to go further, obviously trained to know the room was off limits. Scratching and nudging the wooden barrier, it looked up at the Englishman with a soft whine.

"In here?" Arthur hummed, slowly opening the door. It was a bedroom, almost everything placed neatly and orderly as far as the eye could see. Everything except the bed. Sheets were tangled and tossed haphazardly on the mattress like the bed's occupant had trouble getting out of them, and even from the doorway, England saw a large wet spot. From a quick sniff of the air, he could tell it wasn't urine that moistened the vacant bed. There was a soft gagging from the adjoined bathroom, and the Brit carefully peaked thought the gap between the door and its frame. He didn't know what he was expecting, but what he found was certainly not it.