Fuck the gods. Never gave a proper thought to the Norse pantheon. All about stupid honor and glory and idiotic, drunken, selfish valor. They're anything but compassionate--but do you see me giving them a big reaction? I'm the last bloke they should want for this job. Color. [He snorts.] Doesn't rain often enough. If I'm to be miserable at least let the weather be shit enough to match.

[England shivers lightly and tries pulling away, but he immediately changes his mind and curls his hands into fists, clutching at France's shirt. With a bow of his head, England rests against the older nation and shuts his eyes.]

Ungrateful little bastard's home now telling me to fuck off. S'how it should be.