December 24th, 2016
Wayne, United States
5:39 PM

Song: Winter Wonderland, cover by Michael Bublé

While Jenna and Juan weren't exactly accustom to the colder weather, Francis and Arthur were perfectly fine with a jacket and some scarfs. So, instead of staying in the hotel room, they decided to take a walk, given they had never really toured the suburbs of Detroit.

They had found themselves, however, outside the bustle of the cities, walking alongside the Lower Rogue River, which was starting to run again as the warmer temperatures unthawed the layers of ice. Snow covered the ground more thickly here, due to the fact that the shade of the forest, and that the snow was away from the car exhausts.

France sighed with content. "This is beautiful, non?"

Arthur, who had a piece of melting snow fall on his head, grumbled and swatted the ice away, "I've seen nicer."

"Oh, Arthur, don't be such a Scrooge. Look at this; a little forest in the middle of the city. Even as it aged, it seems Michigan couldn't bare to part with nature." France observed, taking a step over a log.

England didn't see that log, apparently, and tripped, falling flat onto his face in the cold snow. He scrambled up as Francis chuckled. "I think it's cruel, really. These animals have to live surrounded by people who don't care about them."

"I do not think that it true. If they didn't care, why would they leave forests where houses could be? At least here the animals can live." France argued, "Look at- WHAT IS THAT?" France yelled as a black fluffy creature scuttled by, paying the pair no attention.

"Um, a squirrel?" Britain raised a brow in confusion.

France's lavender eyes were wide with wonder, "They came in black?"

"Yes, it's a subgroup of the grey squirrel, but they're extremely common in Michigan. You'll most likely see these blokes more often than any of the others."

"Incroyable," France whispered, "Michigan has always amazed me, even when I first came here centuries ago. It has a lot of hidden treasures if you look."

"Yes, Shelby is quite full of surprises. I think that's why Alfred and her get along so well." England commented.

"What? Shelby doesn't- oh. Oh yes, I agree." France recovered. He had almost stated that Shelby had nothing to do with the fact that Michigan always surprised him, but then he remembered that Shelby was still Michigan to England. When England looked at him in confusion, France decided that they were in need of a subject change, "I must say, however, that I am fairly disappointed in the weather. It is not even snowing." France frowned. "And the snow is melting."

"Yes, well, major cities are known to be a few degrees warmer than the surrounding country side. Detroit is no acceptation, and unfortunately, we are rather close to Detroit." Arthur explained.

"We must admire that snow while it is here then," Francis decided.

"There really nothing to admire. It's only snow." England stated

France gasped in horror. "Only snow? Mon amie, snow carries such a weight of Christmas spirit, and here we are, surrounded by it! Sleigh bells ring, are you listening? In the lane, snow is glistening. A beautiful sight, oh we're happy tonight, walking in a winter wonderland."

"For the love of all things holy, please stop singing." Arthur muttered.

"Gone away is the bluebird," Francis continued, and Arthur huffed, shaking his head, "Here to stay is a new bird. He's singing a song as we go along, walking in a winter wonderland."

They stumbled across a small evergreen tree, "In the meadow, we can build a snowman, and pretend that he is Parson Brown," France sang, gesturing to the tree.

"That is most definitely not a snow man, you git." Arthur pointed out.

"He'll say "Are you married?" We say "Oui mec, and you can do the job when you're in town." France grabbed England's hand as they continued down the through the forest.

England's eyes widened, "Wait, did you say yes? W-we are not-"

"Later on, we'll conspire, as we dream by the fire. To face unafraid of the plans that we made ," France smiled seductively as he glanced Arthur's way, causing the Brit to flush, "walking in a winter wonderland."

"I hardly-" England swallowed, trying to collect himself, "I hardly call this a winter wonderland, frog."

"It is your turn to sing mon cherie."

"What?! I-I do not sing, especially for the likes of you!"

"Ohh, s'il vous plaît, England? It would make my Christmas." France begged.

"Ugh, fine." England grumbled, looking away from the Frenchman, stuffing his free hand in his pocket. "In the meadow, we can build a snowman, and pretend that he is Parson Brown. He'll say "Are you married?" We'll say "No man, but you can do the job when you're in town. Later on, we'll conspire, as we dream by the fire. To face unafraid of the plans that we made, walking in a winter wonderland."

"Walking in a winter wonderland," France sang, glancing over at England with a glint in his eyes. He began leaning forward.

England frowned, pressing his gloved man to France's lips to stop his approach, "Walking in a winter wonderland."