Post by POLAND on Mar 10, 2011 12:39:33 GMT -7
Taking a stroll through the fields was a very relaxing practise for Poland; the feel of the sun beating down on him and the gentle flutter of the breeze made life seem so simple away from the battlefield, indecisive legislators and greedy neighbours. It was something he did often to hide from his work and clear his head. Today however, that was not the case.
Not two hours before, Poland had walked out in the middle of a meeting with Lithuania, a first in their longstanding relationship. The pair hadn't been getting along very well as of late, a fact that perturbed and frustrated the blonde more than it upset him. The source of disagreement mostly rested in domestic affairs, Lithuania trying to gently point out the flaws in Poland's ideas and Poland insisting that he knew what was best for the Commonwealth. Perhaps the brunette was simply tired of being undermined and the blonde was simply tired of being corrected. Poland certainly didn't know; the only thing that registered was the clenching of his fists and the desire to scream over his Lithuanian counterpart. The latter desire quickly became a reality, as most of his spur-of-the-moment fancies tended to, and before he knew it the two were engaged in a screaming match. He just couldn’t stand it when Lithuania – his partner, his right-hand man, the one person in the entire world who was supposed to stand by him no matter what – treated Poland like he didn’t know his own domain. It was ridiculous and quite frankly insulting. So, the boy stormed out of the room, out of the building, and into the outlying fields.
Poland didn’t slow his brisk pace until his mind caught up with him much later. He needed to go home at some point, and walking aimlessly was literally getting him nowhere. And deep down, he knew that this would all blow over. Tomorrow when they met for lunch as was their custom, Liet would apologise for raising his voice and Poland would stiffly accept, guilty with the knowledge that he had started the shouting but grateful for the chance to reconcile.
He trudged to a stop. With a sigh, the boy raked a hand through his hair and took in his surroundings for the first time that afternoon. Not too far in the distance, he could make out a range of mountains dotting the landscape. The Carpathians, he assumed. Aha, he must have wandered into Ukraine’s territory.
Ukraine! The Pole suddenly broke into a grin. This was it! He’d show Liet a thing or two about knowing the domain. He was willing to bet that the other boy didn’t visit Ukraine very often (mostly because the largest portion of Lithuania’s time was monopolized by Poland himself). He definitely knew Ukraine better than the Lithuanian did, and if there was any doubt about the matter he could just ask her directly. In fact, he would ask her.
The only problem with talking to Ukraine was that he would first need to find her. On their occasional visits to her house, Poland chose to dominate the conversation rather than the route, leaving the navigation to Lithuania. As a result, the blonde had absolutely no idea as to where she lived. It couldn’t be far, of that he was certain – although her house was out of the way for the pair of boys, it was not so distant that they needed to bring a horse (though Poland, horse-lover that he was, often brought one anyways.) He craned his neck to look around him again; perhaps he would see something he missed on his first quick survey.
Not two hours before, Poland had walked out in the middle of a meeting with Lithuania, a first in their longstanding relationship. The pair hadn't been getting along very well as of late, a fact that perturbed and frustrated the blonde more than it upset him. The source of disagreement mostly rested in domestic affairs, Lithuania trying to gently point out the flaws in Poland's ideas and Poland insisting that he knew what was best for the Commonwealth. Perhaps the brunette was simply tired of being undermined and the blonde was simply tired of being corrected. Poland certainly didn't know; the only thing that registered was the clenching of his fists and the desire to scream over his Lithuanian counterpart. The latter desire quickly became a reality, as most of his spur-of-the-moment fancies tended to, and before he knew it the two were engaged in a screaming match. He just couldn’t stand it when Lithuania – his partner, his right-hand man, the one person in the entire world who was supposed to stand by him no matter what – treated Poland like he didn’t know his own domain. It was ridiculous and quite frankly insulting. So, the boy stormed out of the room, out of the building, and into the outlying fields.
Poland didn’t slow his brisk pace until his mind caught up with him much later. He needed to go home at some point, and walking aimlessly was literally getting him nowhere. And deep down, he knew that this would all blow over. Tomorrow when they met for lunch as was their custom, Liet would apologise for raising his voice and Poland would stiffly accept, guilty with the knowledge that he had started the shouting but grateful for the chance to reconcile.
He trudged to a stop. With a sigh, the boy raked a hand through his hair and took in his surroundings for the first time that afternoon. Not too far in the distance, he could make out a range of mountains dotting the landscape. The Carpathians, he assumed. Aha, he must have wandered into Ukraine’s territory.
Ukraine! The Pole suddenly broke into a grin. This was it! He’d show Liet a thing or two about knowing the domain. He was willing to bet that the other boy didn’t visit Ukraine very often (mostly because the largest portion of Lithuania’s time was monopolized by Poland himself). He definitely knew Ukraine better than the Lithuanian did, and if there was any doubt about the matter he could just ask her directly. In fact, he would ask her.
The only problem with talking to Ukraine was that he would first need to find her. On their occasional visits to her house, Poland chose to dominate the conversation rather than the route, leaving the navigation to Lithuania. As a result, the blonde had absolutely no idea as to where she lived. It couldn’t be far, of that he was certain – although her house was out of the way for the pair of boys, it was not so distant that they needed to bring a horse (though Poland, horse-lover that he was, often brought one anyways.) He craned his neck to look around him again; perhaps he would see something he missed on his first quick survey.
