COUNTRYHUMANS ONESHOTS (COMPLETED)

cottagecore

500 words

I really like the beginning but I couldn't think of an ending.

The life of a Russian cryptid who eats innocent hopes and dreams was surprisingly uneventful. He spent most of his days wandering the forest where he lived, rolling in moss, and screeching at the gods. Another favorite pastime of his was imagining living in a house. Specifically the cottage just outside of his territory.

The cottage had been there since he could remember. No matter how many years passed or how much thunderstorms hit the area the house always looked the same. The entire house was painted in parchment, with a brown tiled roof on top. The garden in the back was always filled with herbs and flowers, even in the harsh winter months.

Russia was bored, as usual. He felt the fury of the gods and had beetles in his hair, but he felt more empty than usual. So he decided to walk, getting lost in his thoughts and ending up somewhere he wasn't allowed. He had somehow ended up on a path, a gravel one at that, without notice. He quickly noticed his mistake and tried to run back to the woods.

Then a tiny hand gently grabbed his arm. Despite the hand feeling like the dainty one of a lady, it possessed an odd sense of strength. Russia turned around to face a pretty woman. She had the beauty of a mortal, but it felt more ethereal than any human could naturally possess. She smiled through red lips, showing off slightly pointed teeth.

"I've never seen one of y'all before," she said in a southern accent. The woman began to lead him down the path. "Why don't we have some tea? That'll be good." They began to walk on a stone path when the woman began to whistle a song. It was cheerful and made Russia feel happy, which wasn't normal.

They reached the door and the woman opened it. She closed it behind them. The woman continued through the house until they reached the kitchen, where she sat Russia down. "What type of tea do you want? I have peppermint, hibiscus, and earl gray."

"Mud," Russia blurted out without thinking. The woman giggled and scooped some dirt out of a flowerpot with a teacup. She brought Russia his teacup of mud along with another one filled with clear red tea.

"So, how long have you been in these woods?" She asked, swirling the liquid in her cup.

"Only sixty-ish years. How about you?"

"Gosh, I can't remember. More than six-hundred," the woman answered, taking a sip of her tea. "What's your name?"

"Russia. Yours?"

"America," she said. A radio suddenly turned on and started playing quiet music in a strange language. "You have moth wings, how's that?"

"Oh," Russia turned around and looked at his wings. He kind of forgot they were there, he didn't use them often. "Ok, I guess. Do you have wings?"

America chuckled. "None of them are mine, but I have a few."

I can't think of an ending so they exploded oof