day 3, 12:02 – .881 miles from the nearest footpath and four from the nearest human settlement, nearing the heart of the upper half of the middle of nowhere, Brazil

"I don't understand why the heck we are looking for an animal so low on the international food chain in a jungle of all the godforsaken places there are when it could so easily have, I don't know, magically checked in at a hotel or something, which is, considering how it's presumably domesticated since birth so that it most probably hasn't the slimmest shred of natural instinct left and how much his little pussy of a master has influenced it into behaving the way it does, more likely."

"Your being a whiny little bitch while telling me Gilbird's an Albert Einstein of a bird just like his awesome master – is that what yer sayin'?"

"I am not a whiny little bitch-!"

"Roma-chen," Prussia bit back a grin to not let it sound through his words. "Roma-chen, you could just give up, you know."

"Like hell I'm gonna do that! Just- can't we at least follow an actual goddamned footpath instead of walking around in circ-"

"Nope," Prussia cheerfully replied, "'cause my little bird senses are a-tingling… this way!" and he marked his words by beating, rather than hacking, at his millionth bush with a machete.

Romano muttered curses, aimed all his rage at a small cloud of insects with a sweat-slicked spray can instead of punching the man marching ahead of him. Sighing when nothing came out of his weapon, he tossed it over his head and rummaged through the colorful woven bag chockfull of the same brand of bug spray slung over his shoulder.

"Roma-chen, you really shouldn't be doing that," remarked Prussia. "You're permanently butterfly effect-ish damaging this entire precious ecosystem and I don't wanna be semi-responsible for the death of a whole 10% of the world's biodiversity. Also, that's supposed to go on your skin."

"Don't care and don't care," Romano said, kicking at a tiny rodent that peeked at him by the side of his feet. "And you're obviously too stupid to see why I even bother in the first place."

"Hmm."

Romano counted ten seconds as they picked their way through the foliage, thirty, fifty, sixty-five. He grit his teeth so hard, he might have dislocated a few molars. Finally, he spat out, "I'm leaving us a trail of breadcrumbs back to humanity, moron, because at least I have enough sense left to wanna find our way out of this hellhole you had that jerk pretend to tip us off to to try and shake me off."

"Heck no I didn't do such thing!" Prussia protested. "That Ita-chen sounding concerned citizen was simply a gift outta heaven, tha's all. And this Ore-sama could say for certain he's right: my sweet baby Gilbird is 'ere because my little bird senses-!"

"That Ita-chen sounding devil goddamned tipped us to South America - any possible point in South America – not right in the heart of the most godforsaken wasteland in the world!"

"Don't you trust the Ore-sama and his instincts, Roma-chen?"

"No."

"Oh, Roma-chen." There was a light in Prussia's eyes that had no right to be there at the moment, and the flush of his pale, sweaty cheeks were near glowing with joy. His grin for Romano was of the purest intent. "Roma-chen, you should and even if you don't, where's your sense of adventure, eh? Aren't you grateful we're off on one together? Doesn't being out here in the wilderness make you feel alive?"

"Not really. I don't think I've ever wanted to die so much in my entire life till these four hours of torture witcha."

"So you do feel alive!" declared Prussia with an assured nod before stomping forward once again. "'Cause otherwise there'd be nothing left in ya to kill. Ain't I right?"

"Fuck you."

"Anyways," the albino happily chattered, "I'm getting a really strong reading round these parts. Bit o' hard to see past these plants and hear past these other birds, though. Hey, if I took a good sniff with my super sniffer and detect anything awesome…"

Prussia breathed deep as he walked, narrowly missed squashing a whirl of semi-solid goo, stumbled a bit until his shaky arms braced against a tree a few steps away. "Oxygen," he gasped. "C-c-clean air. Puh-please?"

Romano, nose wisely sandwiched between two fingers, stepped over the malodorous stuff, sneering. "Heyheyheyheyhey," he stuttered. "Prussia. Prussia. That shit is fresh."

"Eh? I-is that how the cool kids talk these days or did you invent it just now? Because haak, hah, hah that's a good one, Roma-chen, sniiiiif do the Ore-sama a favor and say it again so he could list it down on his Awesome Book of Modern Terms once he's all recovered – hey, I'mfeelingprettygoodalready-"

"No, you mucus-brained, crap-emitting asshole – That shit," Romano clutched unto Prussia's favorite red sweater (closed all the way up, hood slung over his dripping head) with a hand, jabbed a finger at the direction of said fecal material with another, "is fresh."

"So?"

"It's full of fucking meat."

Prussia paused from getting out his Awesome Book of Modern Terms. "Oh."

They stared at it until its lone fly diner had made a few dozen friends, which wasn't a very long time at all.

"Oh," was the older man's conclusion, "Well don't ya fret! Whatever made it'd be too full to budge, let alone attack. So unless we're in its territory and it's preggers or had just given birth-"

"Oy, Prussia!" the Italian roared over the most awful fit of yowling. His companion faced a squirming spotted ball of arms and legs, flailing in a screeching Romano's arms.

"What the hell is a house cat doing in the middle of the jungle? Looks pretty exotic too – STOP SCRATCHING AT MY FACE, MONGREL! – d'ya think we could return it to its owner and get big bucks in ex-? OI! Dafuq you did that for, you stinking little-"

Prussia, who had snatched the cat and threw it as hard as he could opposite the direction they were heading, just gripped at Romano wrist and bolted.

"Roma-chen, RUN!"

"WHAT THE HELL FOR, YOU CHIGI!?"

"A KITTEN! A KITTEN OUTTA HELL, ROMA-CHEN, DON'T YOU EVER READ NATIONAL GROGRAPH-!"

And the speaker tripped, and so did the listener, and they tumbled down a hill so steep it might as well be a cliff, bumping into trees and its' parts and each other all the way before landing on a surface smooth and soft with mud.

Around their aching bodies were scattered provisions ripped from the hole in Romano's bag: gathered fruits Prussia was pretty sure were safe to eat, two tumblers, a crumpled hand-drawn map and other necessities they'd bought either yesterday with money America lent or traded with Canada's sweaters from local children "flying soon to colder lands" just this morning.

Behind them was a wide river, god knew how deep, where Prussia's machete made a splashing noise as it vanished from their sights forever.

Ahead them was the rise of land they fell from, fraught with shrubbery and life, and something was making noise from behind the greens. Growling. Inching closer and closer and closer until they got the glimpse of two amber spheres from between the leaves.

"Roma-chen," Prussia whispered, crouching lower as if to pounce. He was trembling and if they weren't in immediate danger, Romano would have slapped the look of frightened excitement right out of his face. "Would you rather do the rumba with a jaguar? Or, er, seeing we're bloodied and all that – a cha-cha with piranhas?"

Romano let out a scream.

meanwhile, in Room 9 of the smallest motel of Cape Farewell, Greenland

"…Are you sure your Laddie can't do nothin' about international telephone calls?"

"Sorry Ta-san, but the Internet's the only thing he could mess up. And Su-san and I had the hardest time dodging his questions."

"And your creep friend who wants to join the crew? Austria whatsit?"

"It's Estonia. Well, as far as I know, he's just really good with computers as well. And I thought this was supposed to be just between the five of us?"

"Pokkers." Click. Shift. "Just pray that the line doesn't get hacked by anyone potentially dangerous with me, Finny." Pause. "If worse came to worse, we could've bribed him with a year-long membership or something."

"S-seriously, Ta-san?"

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA no." Silence. "Damn, is no one home?" Click."Where's Sve anyway?"

"Baking a cake for Ice-kun and Norway in his room again. Do you think him carrying an oven from the city all the way here by himself – you know, so he wouldn't have to give the appliance store the address to where we are – would look suspicious to passersby who saw him?"

"I doubt it. Really – Hello? Germany-san? Oh, just- I mean, not just the Italian government, this is Italy-san himself speaking? Yes, sorry about that, just making sure. Oh, do excuse me, I didn't mean to be rude, this is Denmark speaking. Yup! I was just wondering if you've been seeing the news lately… Oh, nothing special, just something about that supposedly-extinct volcano that erupted in Iceland's place a few days back…"

4 days ago, 18:03 – a rushed phone conversation in, on, and at multiple locations, Germany and Italy

- Germany, Germany, they're nearing that location you set on your GPS but your traffic rules are pretty strict, should I let them get awa-?

- At all costs, Italy, NO.

- But your policemen are so meeean, they gave me a ticket and took it with my license away before I could even make it to the next traffic light!

- Tell them the economic state of their nation will collapse if they don't let you pass!

- There, did you hear that? That's the very land you're stepping on talking, ve! Germany, they won't believe me, do you think if I left home with my pants on, they would have had? Germany, they're asking me to step out of my car now-!

- Give them the phone, Italy… THIS IS THE FEDERAL REPUBLIC OF GERMANY SPEAKING AND I AM ENABLING THE ITALIAN REPUBLIC TO BREAK EVERY KNOWN TRAFFIC LAW IN MY TERRITORY FOR THE NEXT SIX HOURS FOR CAUSES I SHALL DISCUSS IN THE NEAR FUTURE. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?

- Ha, did you hear that? Ve, that's right Misters Policemen, let me through, let me through-

- Germany-san, I've been doing independent research on my own alongside your instructions; my personal satellites have detected activity from your top-secret private hangar-

- YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE ABLE TO FIND THAT, JAPAN!

- Ve, Japan, were you talking? I can't hear you properly, I'm going at 120 an hour here- whoops, sorry Pretty Miss!

- Germany-san, it IS Prussia-kun and Romano-kun, shall I speed-dial yours and Italy-kun's top-secret military forces to stop them from-?!

- Speed dia-? NO! Just- just hack all available radars of both Italy's and mine's places, don't let anybody know about the two rouge flights!

- G-Germany-san?

- JUST DO IT!

- Ve, Germany I'm here at that landmark you told me about, but I've forgotten if I should go left or right-

- ITALY, IF YOU SEE ANY AIRCRAFTS TO YOUR LEFT, SHOOT AT THEIR TAILS! They will just have to survive the crash-!

- Ve!? But- but I don't know how to aim and shoot at the same time-! ve? Did you guys hear that? The explosion? No signs of a fire or crash anywhere, though. Umm…

- It was a sonic boom, Italy-kun, I recognize the sound – it will be too late for any direct and immediate interference from us now...

- God damn it.

-Ve, but- but they're not supposed to get out of our borders, aren't they, Germany?

- No. They're not. Japan. Please delete all recordings your satellite has captured. And… please cease all attempts to find them with your devices.

- Germany-san, I understand that this is a personal matter between you and Italy-kun and I apologize for being so intrusive. However, Prussia-kun and Romano-kun… if I could be of any assistance in finding them, I-

- Thank you, Japan. I know you mean well and I trust you. But for now, I would like you to remove any trace of any record of the last five minutes you have regarding my brother and Italy's. Now.

- Of course, Germany-san.

- But why, Germany? Japan's our friend, and his people can even help us cause it's always the more the merrier when it comes to looking for people, right?

- …No, Italy. Not this time.

- Ve, Germany, do you need a beer or something? Are you running low on potato fuel? I mean, they're just fighting over Gilbird, right? It's not something harmful that should just be kept between just the three of us, right?

- Um, hello? Has everyone disconnected? No one's been talking for a while? Er – what do we do now, ve…

- Japan, is Gilbird still with you?

- Yes, Germany-san.

- Good. Italy, come back home – no, of course I'm not letting you spend the night in jail. I think I would need a beer to come up with something we could actually work with. For now, Japan, keep her secret. Keep her safe.

to be continued…