"Honestly buds, I'm just glad that that whole stupid thing with America was cleared up. Can you imagine if the war had continued?" Newfoundland gasps at the idea, his bright blue eyes going impossibly wider. "Oh goodness, I don't think I could've handled it."

"You weren't even fighting," Québec sighs, flicking a page in his French novel. "America wanted Ontario and I for some weird reason. You were protected by Britain's navy."

"Why exactly are you still talking about this?" Métis wonders, weaving long strips of grass together. "You know the war ended ten years ago, right?"

"I dunno, bud...maybe because ten years feels like a day to me," Newfoundland responds with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

New Brunswick, who sits next to Québec and reads over his shoulder, looks up at that. "Oh...I agree," she murmurs, just managing to put in her two cents before she returns her attention to the novel.

"White House...whoooo..." Ontario mumbles, letting out a rather long and obnoxious snore as he rolls over and tucks his arms beneath his head.

The wind rustles the tree above them, a few of the leaves drifting down and nestling in the colony's shaggy blond hair. He snorts as one lands on his nose, but that does little to wake him from his deep nap. Canada glances at Ontario, a tiny smile flickering across his lips.

"He even talks when he's sleeping," he says, almost laughing.

"He really never does shut that large mouth of his," Québec agrees. "Dommage..."

"Oh yeah, eh?" Kumajiro comments, sniffing at Newfoundland's pockets for treats.

The boy grins and hugs the bear to his chest, at which Kumajiro gives up on finding treats and decides to relax. The group settles in, listening to the calm silence of the afternoon. Canada watches each of the colonies doing their own thing, weaving flower crowns or reading or napping or just staring up at the sky. It feels very peaceful.

"OI LADDIES!" a boisterous accented voice screeches from nearby, shattering the fragility of the silence.

"Nova!" Newfoundland exclaims, lurching to his feet and startling Kumajiro from his dozing state. "Hey there buddy!"

The Scottish colony jogs towards them, his freckled face lit up in a never-ending smile and his red curls bouncing with his movements. He jolts to a stop abruptly in front of them, but not before jamming his feet directly into Ontario's middle. The British colony awakens with a strangled screech and goes rolling over, clutching at his waist and wheezing for air.

"What the hell, Henry?!" he gasps. "What did I ever do to you?!"

"I didn't see you there, lad. Sorry," Nova Scotia apologizes without hesitation. He quickly dons his winning smile again and throws his hands up. "Anyways, you have perfect timing! Here, under this tree on this lovely day, I will show all of you my little sister! She's been laying low while she grows up but I think she's been around plenty long enough!"

Canada arches an eyebrow, tilting his head back to look up through the branches at the sky. "We have met a lot of new colonies while relaxing here."

"Probably because introducing each other around the mortals would be utterly idiotic, non?" Québec suggests. New Brunswick nods in agreement and fiddles with her jewellery.

"So...you've got a little sister?" Métis questions.

"Is she cute?" Newfoundland demands, his eyes seeming to sparkle as he smiles innocently.

"She's a right beauty," Nova Scotia promises. "I know because she looks exactly like me...but more feminine, of course." Before anyone can add another word, the Scot spins around takes a deep breath. "OI CHARLOTTE! COME MEET THE LADS!"

From the same direction that Nova Scotia had come previously, a girl appears. She walks with a sense of purpose, hands folded in front of her and a shy smile on her face. True to Henry's word, she looks almost exactly like him. She has the same curly red hair, although she's wearing it in a high ponytail, and the same blue eyes and freckles. Her white sundress suits her nicely, a blue-checkered apron worn over top.

"HURRY IT UP!" Nova Scotia urges.

"I will move as fast as I want!" she calls back, revealing that she too has the slight lilt of a Scottish accent, albeit it's less prominent than her brother's.

Canada gets to his feet, feeling obligated to introduce himself first. He moves to Nova Scotia's side as Charlotte arrives, her short stature making him feel surprisingly intimidating.

"Hello, I'm Canada," he greets, holding his hand out to the girl. "You're Charlotte."

"Prince Edward Island, actually, but Charlotte is my human name," she responds, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. "I've been more on the down low for a while, as my brother possibly mentioned?" Nova Scotia nods and flashes a thumbs up.

"She's this tiny little island right above New Brunswick and I," Nova Scotia adds, making a "tiny" gesture with his fingers. His bright eyes flash to the shy blonde cuddled by Québec. "We've got a new neighbour, Freddy!"

Frederica blushes at the nickname, looking down at her hands. "Oh...that's lovely."

"Oh, yeah! More introductions!" Nova Scotia exclaims, doing a weird skip and a jump in place and swinging his arms towards the group. "The pretty girl over there is New Brunswick, and the guy she's cuddling with is Québec." New Brunswick scoots away from Québec at those words, making the French colony look less than happy at Nova Scotia. The redhead ignores his anger and sweeps his arm over Newfoundland's shoulders. "This little laddie is Newfoundland. He's great." He rubs his knuckles against John's head, making the blond giggle. "The guy on the ground is Ontario. The only reason he's stayed silent is because I accidentally nailed him in the ribs. Sorry again, lad."

Ontario mutters a curse towards the redhead, his cheeks utterly pale and his arms wrapped securely around his stomach. He still looks like he's about to throw up. Nova Scotia winks and tips an invisible hat at the Brit, spinning towards the last province. Métis glances up from her grass weaving, as if waiting for him to introduce her.

"And that girl with the dark braid is Métis," Nova Scotia says. "She's the only one who doesn't know what province she's supposed to be."

Métis sighs heavily at that and lowers her head, pretending to be enthralled by a ladybug that scampers across her leg. Prince Edward Island bows her head to the group, a pleasant smile lifting her pale cheeks.

"Lovely to meet you all. Mind if I join you in your relaxing?" she asks. "I could use some new friends."

"By all means! You can sit by me, bud!" Newfoundland says.

He lunges forwards and grasps her hand, dragging her down into the shade directly beside him. Nova Scotia settles down on her other side, throwing his arms out and collapsing into the grass with a dopey grin on his face. Québec shakes his head, a tiny smirk twisting his lips upwards as he finds his place in his novel. He looks up at New Brunswick, patting the spot beside him and urging her to return to her previous spot. She obliges.

"Canada...how many provinces are you gonna have?" Ontario groans, finally getting back up as some colour returns to his face. The country gives him a confused look. "I don't think I can handle all these different people! And Nova kicks hard..."

"Stop your whining and man up, Anglo-bastard," Québec sighs, his voice a bored drone. "You're embarrassing yourself." Ontario scowls at him in response.

Canada shrugs, answering his friend's question. "I suppose I'll just wait and see how many show up."

With that, he wanders over to Métis and sits down, Kumajiro swiftly finding a place in his master's lap. The afternoon continues on with little to no distractions.