Chirping curiously, the wolf approached the bush with its tail wagging like a friendly dog. Soft snuffling followed as the green-eyed creature sniffed out the trembling boy hidden in the depths of the blackberry bush. His throat humming in a pleased growl, the creature poked its snout into the prickly bush and nuzzled the terrified boy's shoulder, trying to convince the silly little thing to come out. The boy with dark locks, wide hazel eyes and a red nose, pushed away the invading nose as his lips quivered in fear," Get away! You can't eat me! "

His eyes flickering in confusion, the wolf, named Spain, retreated but not before giving a soft lick to the boy's tear stained cheeks. Stepping back and sitting patiently, Spain watched the boy with his intelligent green eyes. He gave a soft howl.

The boy's eyes followed his movements and the howling didn't help as the boy jumped in fear and settled himself further into the bush's leafy stronghold.

Spain was growing impatient. With a shake of his head, he rose and once again approached the bush and stuck his snout in carefully, trying not to startle the curious creature hiding inside. His teeth met the boy's torn shirt and he grasped it gently in his mouth and tugged. The boy shrieked. Ignoring the noise, he continued to tug the boy out, gently but firmly, and was pleased when the boy finally fell out of his prickly fortress with a squeak and a thump.

Letting go of the boy's shirt, Spain quickly curled himself around the boy to prevent him from escaping. The boy, with his rumpled, torn clothes, his tear-swollen eyes, and sniffling nose that dripped; whimpered as he tried not to touch the furry body that surrounded him," Don't eat me. Please."

Spain's eyes narrowed. Did the boy have such little faith in him? Shaking out the prickles and debris in his fur from head to tail, Spain relaxed himself and gave gentle licks to the boy's face. Without speaking, he tried to reassure the boy that no he was certainly not going to eat his little moon.

The boy visibly relaxed when he realized the licks were meant to be a gesture of reassurance and fondness rather than ones of hunger. His shoulders were still much too tense for Spain's liking, but Spain supposed not all things were to be solved at once. Busying himself with cleaning the boy's scratches, Spain crooned a love note as his tongue swiped gently across the boy's shallow cuts. The boy winced but otherwise did not complain. 'Such a naughty little moon', Spain mused as the boy settled himself closer to Spain's warmth,' thinking to hide himself in a blackberry bush. Thinking to run away and terrify me.'

His eyes starting to droop at half-mast, the boy soon fell asleep with Spain's croons serving as his lullaby and Spain's soft fur serving as his bed.

Spain supposed the greatest day of his shortened life was when he discovered little moon.

He had always watched the villages in his territory at a distance but the boy grabbed his attention in a town in Scillia. Spain had been going on his usual territory patrol when he found a pair of twins looking out at the woods, at him, from the edge of their village. One had a sunny smile on his face as he whispered excitedly to his brother and pointed out Spain's hunched form. But the other boy simply observed Spain with quiet, hazel eyes and scowled when Spain's green eyes met his. Spain couldn't help but be fascinated. Without thinking, he approached the two, not once breaking eye contact with the boy with hazel eyes. The smiling boy soon cried out in fear, dropping his smile and tried to tug his brother away. But the other boy, Spain's boy, stood his ground with a defiant expression that dared Spain to come closer.

Spain was lucky that he wasn't shot at by the boys' grandfather who suddenly appeared and shooed the wolf away.

Ever since then, Spain had always taken his time to watch the same village for any signs of his boy. Crouching down at the border between nature and human society, he watched the boy play with the other children, do his chores around the village and sometimes he swore he saw the boy stare back at him, as though he knew Spain was there.

Spain had also taken to calling the boy, Little Moon, for he drew Spain toward him like the luminescent orb in the sky often drew creatures of the night.

He grew frightfully attached to this human boy, but he couldn't bear to tear himself away for fear of losing sight of his moon.

Imagine his surprise and fear when he visited the village and couldn't find his moon anywhere among the glittering townlights.

It started as a growing pit of doubt.

He had wandered near the village once more and sniffed the air, trying to find where his Little Moon went. Strangely enough, he couldn't get a scent of the boy anywhere in the village.

The pit grew deeper and a seed of fear was planted in its depth.

Paws lightly trotting, he circled the entire village, still no scent of his boy. He paused when he heard shouts and saw the villagers below searching for something desperately. His ears flickering forward, Spain drew closer to hear what they were yelling.

" Romano!"

" Romano Vargas!"

" Fratello!"

It was the last small screech that caught his attention as his eyes sharply focused onto the small child, his Moon's brother, Little Sun. Little Sun was yelling with all his might as his hands were cupped around his mouth," Brother! Fratello! Where are you!"

Then Spain's heart dropped into that pit and the seed of fear grew into a flower of terror.

Feet springing into action, Spain ran with adrenaline rushing in his veins. They had lost his Moon! Those stupid villagers had lost his precious moon and now Spain had to find him before it was too late.

He shook his head as terrible images of the boy being torn from limb to limb by other predators filled his mind. No. He must find the boy and keep him safe. Following an old scent, Spain began to track his Moon's voyage through the forest.

He found the boy in a blackberry bush, trembling in fear.

Once Spain had the child's warmth safe in his grasp, he found it would be almost impossible for him to let the boy go. Now that he knew the boy's sweet scent and his soft warmth curling against his side, Spain couldn't return to the life of watching his moon from afar.

He contemplated what he should do as rain started to drizzle down on them and the boy awoke as a roaring thunder shook the trees overhead. The boy cried out in fear but Spain was quick to comfort him, nuzzling the boy's cheek with his wet nose. Standing as raindrops collected and dripped off his fur, Spain nosed the boy to stand as well. He grabbed the boy's sleeve with his mouth and gently tugged the boy to his home, a shoddy shack that laid in the heart of the forest. He had taken up the human dwelling as a hopeful venture. He felt he was closer to the boy, closer to being a human, in this strange home.

A crack of thunder split the skies and the boy yelped as he rushed inside. Spain followed with a worried yip and wrapped himself once more around the shivering boy. Despite the pattering of raindrops, Spain could hear humans approaching from afar.

He hoped that the rain would preserve him and his moon a little more time together.

They were here for him. They were here for his little moon. But Spain was not going to give up without a fight. He growled gutturally as his eyes narrowed at the intruders. They were big, adult humans who stood with their weapons pointed at him. The stupid humans who thought they would be trusted with his moon after losing him once. No, the moon was his now.

Spain glanced back to see his little moon trembling like a leaf in a gale and was compelled to comfort him but he shook off the emotion and instead snarled with all his might at the invaders.

"It's that wolf!"

"Did the wolf kidnap the child?"

"How strange."

"It's dangerous to leave Romano here. We must kill the wolf and take Romano home."

"No! Leave him alone!"

Spain did not like the sounds of this conversation. He growled warningly before he leapt to attack the tallest human. As his teeth sank viciously and tore at the man's soft bleeding flesh, Spain heard a crash of thunder and smelled the hateful scent of gunpowder. Spain felt a jolting pain blossom on his abdomen and he fell back, collapsing onto the hard floor with a crash. He panted, it was growing harder to draw his breath, and his ear tilted back as he heard little moon run to him. Sighing when he felt soft fingers gently grab at his fur, Spain knew that little moon was crying his fat teardrops for him, " Get up, you stupid wolf! Get up! I won't forgive you if you die!"

Spain could only croon his love note to the boy as he felt his body give and darkness creep over his vision. His last image was of his little boy being taken away from his slowly cooling body.

Shoes scuffling against the rocky ground, Romano watched the treelines with a hopeful glint in his eyes. As though searching for a faint star among the dark trees, Romano's gaze fluttered in all directions. He had hoped against all odds that the wolf would show up. Eyes starting to water, he ran. He ran toward the treelines, through the forest, to that shabby shack where his wolf was.

Panting as he caught his breath, Romano took a gulp of air and swung open the door. The wolf was still there. His chest was stained red and his fur drenched with water. There was not enough time for his body to start decomposing, and as Romano rushed forward and knelt next to the cold form, he couldn't help but think it was sleeping.

'The least I can do for you... Is give you a proper funeral,' Romano thought as his small arms wrapped around the freezing, wet fur and started to half-carry, half-drag the heavy body out.

As he felt the soft fur brush his cheek accidentally, he started crying again. Suddenly he felt the heavy load lifted from his arms and released not too gently on the dewy grass," Hey! What the hell, bastard!"

Romano looked up to see a teen with bright, green eyes and curly, chestnut dark hair. The teen was smiling with sad eyes at Romano and he reached down to pick Romano into his arms. Struggling, Romano yelped and shrieked as he was picked up," Let go of me! You bastard! I have to bury him!"

A soft reply," Don't worry, he's just happy you remembered him afterall."

At the answer, Romano felt his throat choke as tears leaked from his glistening eyes and he sobbed into the stranger's shoulder.

Nuzzling the boy's cheek, the teen, spoke tenderly," Do not cry. He wouldn't have like you crying."

Romano hiccuped out," Who says?"

" I do, Little Moon."

Dammit! I must stop writing oneshots of Spamano AUs. maybe, Romechu next...

Welp, there you have it folks.
(;w; )

Please Review!~

Also posted on archive of our own (A cooler fanfiction site that's just starting out with some really quality writing!~~ )