Snow fell in sheets quickly covering a small child that had only recently appeared. At first glance he looked like any other ordinary infant. Tiny, confused, and most certainly helpless as the snow piled up around him, burning his delicate newborn skin. However, upon closer look there are some things that aren't right. First of all he didn't cry even though he was obviously uncomfortable in his harsh and unforgiving surroundings. Second of all he had several features that no child his size should have and that didn't fit his little body quite right. Lastly he doesn't look anything like the people found in surrounding regions. There aren't even any people that live around where this boy is. That is because he isn't an ordinary child. He is a new nation. One that is struggling to find an existence. He doesn't have much time though. He tries crawling, looking for some shelter that will help him to survive the night. Tiny fists reach out grabbing a ball of ice. He inches forward. Slowly the energy seeps out of him. He can't move his limbs and it's far too late to cry for help. He tries curling up in a ball. His body heat isn't enough. He won't even live to see his first sunrise.
Russia is such a cute character in Hetalia so I'm writing a fic basically it's his life growing up. Going on creativity and a book I just read so if anybody who knows Russian history well has any corrections it would be really appreciated! ~Nami