Snippet #1881008

"I think I saw one of those out in one of my ice deserts. She was very pretty. She had smaller ones following her." He said with a nod, blush creeping slowly onto his face. "I am glad you are great, Canada."

Iceland looked down at the paper in his hand, then slowly showed it to Russia. "Apparently I am your dorm mate. I asked about it ahead of time back in Iceland. I must always be prepared," the nation said briefly with a nod.

"Yes. Puffins are very common at my place." Emil said, setting his bag down for a moment to gently pet the puffin, which rested on his head. "They are very vivid, in personality, I mean." A small, faint, petite smile spread across his feminine-appearing features as he pulled a white lock of his hair away from his eyes.

Looking down, he noticed one of the laces which laced up his boots was becoming undone. The puffin jumped off of his head and waddled on the ground to sit stationary next to Iceland, like a small stalker in a way. He knelt down and tied it carefully, then came back up one done. "Also, Russia, I came back from practicing bow and arrow. Oh, Canada, Russia, How do you two like the school so far? I'm growing quite fond of it, besides the fact it's in America. More time for that man's boasting."

Iceland decided to sit down, since the heels on his boots were beginning to spark up a little uncomfortable feeling on his feet, next to Canada on the bench. He also crossed his legs in almost a professional-appearing manner, and the puffin hopped onto his lap and fluttered it's wings, soon to relax and watching the polar bear carefully in slight paranoia.