Brothers Under the Sun (Canada) -OPEN-

[America]

I had a dream - of the wide open prairie
I had a dream - of the pale morning sky
________________________

Loud giggles escaped from a little boy's lips, arms spread out wide as tiny legs ran through golden fields of wheat and barley. A wild and free spirit. That's what he had been called by his Mother and tribe, a spirit like the wild horses that ran through these same fields, or the eagle that flew across the wide, open blue skies. Always running off out of the watchful eye of his elders, always out playing among the wild herds.

That's how he saw himself as, the earth was his to roam and play. The west wind blowing against his back, smile wide and bright as though he believed that he could rise from the ground and fly with his friends in the sky. Wide blue eyes looked upward, spotting something he had never seen before. A giant bird, gliding with a type of grace that he had only imagined when the tribe elder told the tales of the spirits of the lands. Maybe this was really one of those spirits that he had heard about? The story that the spirit would lead whoever sees it to something something special, something that the person who follows is missing.

Letting out a boisterous laugh as he ran in pursuit after the creature, hands pushing at the stalks that stood in his way. He ran as fast as his legs could potentially take him, eyes never leaving the bird as it's gliding grew faster, pulling further ahead of him with a loud sound emitting from his beak. "Wait! Come back, I'm trying to follow you!" He called with a hint of a whine and a pout, trying to run faster in an effort to catch up to the glorious being.

Finding himself at the end of the golden field, out from the confinement of the wheat and barley. Looking up again, the bird was gone. His arms crossed, lips pursing into a pout. He lost it. He lost the spirit. Now how was he going to find what it wanted to show him? Blue eyes looked back out across the strange new land, head tilted slightly to the side when his eyes fell onto something else. What was it? It was small like him. It had hair kind of like his. Was wearing something like him. Was it a boy? No, couldn't be. It had to be a girl. Looked like a girl. What was the white thing next to her? Wasn't a buffalo, wasn't a horse, wasn't anything that he had ever seen before. However, that didn't stop his curiosity.

Walking forward toward the stranger with a tilted head and walking up behind it, he reached forward to poke at the back of the blond head. His eyes were wide and bright, as well as the ever-present smile. "Hi there!" He said with a bright giggle, continuing to poke at the back of the other's head until he received an answer.

I had a dream - that we flew on golden wings
And we were the same - just the same - you and I
________________________

[Canada]

It was warm again. Eyes half-open, he lifted his face into the raining warmth. Would Strange-Snow-Skinned come? Or would the more leaf skinned water people show? A light frown grew as he pondered who would be there on his home. The Snow-Skinned felt... nice and familiar. He taught him how to make meat hot and tastier than even the freshest kill... well maybe not the freshest but it was good, different from the dripping and cooling flesh he'd been raised on. Apparently it wasn't the best to eat if the water people's faces were an indication... or some of the warm dirt and bark colored Pack People's recoiling and aggression showed. It was annoying now that the Pack People wanted him to eat only the cooked except on special occasions... But that was what happens he supposed.

Now if only he could keep out of the meddling females' hands... he was sick of their grooming of his hair, skin, and even the extra clothes. There was nothing wrong with the fur wrap or loincloth... Now they had him in such a long shirt? with annoying decorations that were hard to keep quiet hunting in... though he was getting better. They let him keep his leggings, but today they had deemed his dirt covered leggings and shirt too filthy and had somehow wrestled them off him only to have to try to catch and clothe him again. It took quite a time before they finally called in the old woman Alpha, a woman even he knew not to disobey... besides the game of chase was getting boring.

Shaking his light colored locks from his night-paint tinted eyes, the boy walked to the South. His Brother-Bear would be unhappy, but for now he wanted to just bask in the warmth that always seemed to flee the Cold Man there. It was only a few moments before his white brother was with him again, soaked from obvious swimming and fishing. The bear stopped him for a sniff over and quick tongue-bath. He didn't mind this type of cleaning... it didn't happen that often and was typically much warmer than the scrubbing based one the grandmothers as Snow-Skinned taught him they were called. Nuzzling into the damp fur he sniffed the musky scent, then began to grunt and make the noises of his first language explaining he would be going far South.

"I'm going to bask in the hotter area, you don't need to guard me."

"The Fur-Hunter Packs do not keep you as a cub there."

"I will be silent, if I need I will shed this fur and hide or call for the Howlers or Claws to help. You don't like the hot, and you can't hide."

"Cub will not go near their dens."

"I will be careful."

"Yes or I will drag you to the Alpha female and make you stay with her all bright light and dark light."

"They're sun and moon."

The bear cuffed him gently and gave a final lick.

"Be careful, I don't like waking to run and kill the Fur-Thieves. The tree arms hurt."

Nodding the boy gave a quick lick to the soft fur and turned to continue to the warm. Weaving quickly through the trees and other landmarks was fun, but as he grew closer to his destination he began to slow, cautious of too much noise. Being caught by the Southern Pack People was always risky. Some would try and keep him as the Packs he stayed with, while others feared and might hurt or cage him as a Spirit. Luckily the one time his brother could not get him out or even the Howlers or Claws, the Cold Man had helped him and took him.

The sea of gold was close, he could see it from the cluster of rocks he stood on. The warm basking area was even closer, a few clusters of trees and low bushes allowed for privacy, rarely used by growing Fur-Thieves to wrestle together with loud grunts much like how Alphas and Betas mated. He wondered if pups and kits knew to follow the wrestlers like they would the female of a mating. For some reason only those who were allowed to mate would have pups. It was strange to him, but for now he'd ignore that and and happily bask in the soft grass.

He had fallen asleep, something dangerous in the unpredictable territory of the Fur-Thief-Keepers, and some jolt on his hair pushed him to wake. A firm poke and playful pup-like voice startled him. Quickly he sat up into a crouch, ready to flee if needed. He was too startled to move, something strange from the touch felt like a jolt. His bear was with him. He would be sure to receive a scolding for the sleeping, but at the moment he was happy for the protective presence. The cage was not a good experience and it had been terrifying the strange dance the males had done around him. A familiar feeling, like how Snow-Skinned felt but more.... like a piece of him, slipped down his back from where the other had touched. It was... good but so new. Brother was awake, but didn't seem to be too worried as he watched on in a sit. He didn't sense, smell, or hear anyone but the one... like him behind him. He turned careful to not provoke an attack as he tried to decode the language of the other. It was similar to one of the Pack People's.... and sounded like the play bark of a pup. But the thought of the meaning was lost as he stared at the boy before him. Not only did he feel like him, but he looked like him.

His mouth hung open as he stared at the one dressed similarly but not the same. His face was warm and probably pink not from the sun but likely the sparks. Who was he? He looked like he stayed with the Fur-Thieves but how had he not run into him before? It took a moment until he realized he hadn't greeted the boy back, likely what was said earlier... but which language did he use? He didn't want to be rude, especially as he did want to know him... Hesitantly he nodded, biting his lip and tilting his head. Hopefully his body language would help as he began to give a little yip of greeting in the Howler language before starting to go through the small bit of phrases he learned of the Southern Packs he could go near and then the sounds he thought were right of the Fur-Thieves he tried to avoid in this area. His heart was racing, he doubted it was a trap but he couldn't be too sure... and he didn't quite listen when the other had spoken so it was even worse!

"Hello...."

[America]

Follow your heart - little child of the west wind
Follow the voice - that's calling you home
____________________

The boy could feel the warmth of the sun and the cradle of the west breeze on his back, his head giving a faint tilt to the side at the girl's actions and movements. Everything about this was so strange to him, so different. She had dropped into a crouch much like a rabbit ready to bound off if necessary. Letting himself bend downward with his hands falling on his covered knees, blue meeting purple. She was pale like him. She had bright hair like him. She was small like him. She was wearing something like him. She didn't look like anyone in his tribe, his Mother, or the elders. She looked...Just like him.

He felt his lips part slightly as a baffled expression began to cross his face when she spoke. What language was it? It sounded like a language of the land, one that he had heard before but never could learn no matter how hard he had tried. Every time he got close, he would be found and taken back home to be scolded for sneaking off. No doubt it would happen again once he was found, but he had a good excuse to give now.

"I...Don't understand." He said, his voice quiet yet still confused. One hand rose from the fabric of his clothes, slowly reaching forward to give a small poke to the other's forhead. His head gave a small tilt, unclenching his hand so his palm rested on the warm skin, letting it move downward to the girl's cheek. She was soft and warm, looking at the similarities in the color of their skin. His hand continued with it's calm exploration, fingers trailing to the darker blond locks. They were also soft, a lot like his own.

He let his hand fall from the pale stranger's head before he held up his hand with his palm toward him, and just waited. He didn't understand why whoever this was was so familiar to him, as if this person was someone that he had known his entire life but had never met or had been separated from. "Do I know you?"

Follow your dreams - but always, remember me
I am your brother - under the sun
____________________

A/N: Short post is short. ><;;;

[Canada]

"I...Don't understand."

The other's tone was far more understandable than the actual sounds coming out. They didn't know what the other called, but to an extent they probably could understand... if only through tone and body language. The soft sound created a warmth that coiled in his stomach, making his hands twitch for something to cling to. Maybe the other boy was that thing? The hand raised had him tense, ribs tight with anxiety of a past recurrence. Soft, callused, and hot. His eyes widened at the touch. The poke turned to a caress. One that that inside feeling called at him to go toward, to lean into it and yet also to flee. To run for something surrounding this touch would be bad. Not the reflection but those that surrounded it.

Slowly his eyes drooped, as the feeling to stay triumphed. A similar hand was back facing to him and he wanted to take it and hold onto it and never separate. To lie down like he did with his Brother. Was that what this was? A brother? They were so alike, but different.... This one smelled like the Hunters and must have been raised by them if his appearance and callings had any merit... Dangerous but having such a warmth like a heavy pelt. His lower lip was going to bleed soon if he didn't stop worrying it.

A soft whimper slipped as the tingling from his hair faded. It should have kept going, at least that is what he wanted... but it would mean letting the other keep touching. Could he trust one who stayed with them? Brother didn't like the Hunters trying to have him stay in their dens and he felt the weight from the bear's disapproval at the thought. A string tugged at him to go closer to the boy, but a soft sound from Brother had him taking a step back against the bear.

"Do I know you?"

Kumajirou groaned lightly the departing sound. This... reflection was interesting and felt like his cub-mate, but it wasn't him. He didn't know this furless cub and that was the problem. If they met him again, then maybe he could trust it, but for his brother-cub's sake they had to leave. They had stayed longer than was safe. It would hurt, he could already tell the grieving feeling start in the smaller form but those around this new cub were not trustworthy.

A soft turn tugged at his mouth for the moment. Brother was right and it was always best to follow his white furred caretaker, though something felt wrong as he began to step back. The other's words made him wish he could answer back. It was like they were part of something, like how mates acted but not with the funny games... An ache started and he knew it would grow like a hunger. It would be best to do this quickly like the soft growl suggested. Why slowly pull out a hurt stick when a quick tug lessened the pain? He turned to dart away and return to the den. The pack would be ready to hunt by the time he returned.

[America]

It's a new world, it's a new start
It's alive with the beating of young hearts
___________________

The boy continued to stand and wait with a tilted head and baited breath, why wasn't the one who looked like him answering back and why was he looking down? Had...He said something wrong? He didn't think that he had, he only said something similar to what he had heard Mama Elder say to a member of another tribe. The one who looked like him only made weird noises, noises that he had only heard animals make. What tribe did this stranger come from that all he knew how to do were make sounds of the animals? But...He was a reflection, a bustling familiarity, but at the same time not.

He could feel his eyes widen when the great white bear came up behind him, feeling himself backing away slightly. Why wasn't he scared? Did he know the great white bear? Watching when the stranger turned and left with the white beast, it took everything in his whole being to not run after him. Something about this felt wrong, he didn't want to be apart from him even though he didn't know his name or had only met him not a few minutes previous.

His hand fell to his side, feeling pangs rising in his stomach as well as a quiet rumble. It was time to return, even though he didn't want to. But the Elders had probably noticed that he was gone, no doubt he is going to be in trouble. But something else spoke to him, that he would see that one again. Turning and running through the fields, feeling the west winds blowing against his back. Something felt strange, as though...Something was going to happen.

Maybe it was going to happen, even as he ran, his thoughts were with on the other boy. He hoped that he would see him again, and see him again soon.

It's a new day, it's a new plan
I've been waiting for you

Here I am
___________________

[Canada]

January 1763

The flakes danced around him as he ran through the trees, bear-brother invisible to all save the most experienced hunters. His caretakers had lost or forgotten him days after Papa had left saying he was going to end the fighting. It didn't really bother him that much, the being forgotten but he wished they had at least once caught and kept him. He'd always known when to run back for Papa not to be suspicious... After all, he didn't want Marguerite or Francesca fired like the one woman had been. They were his people and as Papa taught, he was to watch after them and love them all. As long as he went back home early enough and cleaned up and got the major hair mats out, he would be the petite angel of Papa again. The path even in the fresh almost un-travelable snow was evident to him, if only by memory. He'd be back to that southern patch soon. Nations and colonies were lucky he supposed. 'Pour voyager comme un être humain à travers ce que je pouvais à peine faire 3 miles .... Je serais probablement mort.'¹ Grinning the boy let his tangling curls fly about his face, increasing his speed in a way only his kind could.

The far too often visited in secret spot was coming up. Luckily no colonists had developed the area yet, though it was in the chenille à face du monstre terrestre². The warmth from his first experience with the remembered reflection grew, if only it meant he could see the spirit again? He had been sure it had to be a spirit, Papa would have said if there were another like him so much, non? Or maybe it was a dream... it had been so long ago and anytime he came here the feeling got stronger, but still... He drew into the clearing slowly, unwanting to somehow draw attention of one of le monstre face chenille.... though Papa had said there was only one... though it did like to talk of démons, de fées, des esprits et des créatures de la nuit.³ Papa didn't believe in them, so Mattieu had never said a word about the things of his land... even when he had known a Wendigo had eaten those people...

The feeling was so warm, he probably could have taken off more of the insisted upon jackets and frill dresses Papa demanded son peu de chou⁴ wear. The long blouses and jumpers were beautiful, but got dirty so quickly... they would be ruined by the time he came back, though Papa never really liked to dress him in the same flowing cloths so it was alright. The fragile leather shoes were long lost, likely picked up by a wild dog or wolverine. He giggled at the icy feel of the snow between his mostly numbed feet. The "pain" didn't bother him, but seemed like a pleasant reminder of Père Hiver's⁵ visits. He was back in the center of that place, but he didn't see his reflection...


"Peut-être que je devrais faire une sieste? Si j'ai rencontré ma réflexion à partir d'un rêve, je pouvais si je dormais encore ... S'il n'était qu'un rêve, alors je serais heureux de rêver d'une autre visite... Le mal pourrait aller loin pour un peu ... s'il est un esprit, il pourrait alors quitter la terre du monstre et de rester avec moi! "⁶

The boy let himself fall to the snow and let his eyes fall slowly, hair, ribbons, and clothes draped out under him like delicate wings and brush strokes. Kumaques had stopped at the line of land that was his. Near enough to help if necessary, but it would be strange even for one of the British colonials to harass a child like him, even such a monster's influence would not allow that... surely? The cool kisses of Père Hiver calmed him and began to lull him to sleep. The wind was soft and he though he could hear the cold man's voice whispering the strange sounds again.

"Баю-баюшки-баю,
Не ложися на краю.
Придёт серенький волчок,
Он ухватит за бочок
И утащит во лесок
Под ракитовый кусток....."⁷

.-------------
*February 10th is when the treaty is officially signed and when this will jump forward next
¹ To travel as a human through this I could barely make 3 miles.... I'd probably die
² Catepillar faced monster's land
³ demons, fairies, spirits, and creatures of the night
⁴ his little cabbage
⁵ Father Winter's
⁶ "Perhaps I ought to nap? If I met my reflection from a dream, I could if I slept again... If he was only a dream, then I would be happy to dream another visit... The hurt go away for a bit... and if he is a spirit, then it could leave the land of the monster and stay with me!"
⁷ Baby, baby, rock-a-bye
On the edge you mustn't lie
Or the little grey wolf will come
And will nip you on the tum,
Tug you off into the wood
Underneath the willow-root.
"Little Grey Wolf" a traditional Russian Lullaby