A/N: Here's the next chapter. Hope you like it! Reviews are love. – Wolf

Chapter 4 : Where am I?

Iceland bent down to pick up the things that Norway had given him. He started putting them in the little silk bag one by one; the only item he left out was the blue book. Iceland stared at the book for a second. He didn't know what was going on, and again he had been left in this weird place all alone. He could hear Norway's voice telling him to wander and that the book wouldn't allow him to get lost. Iceland thought about exploring, because, why not? If this really was real, he'd get to explore a new place, but if it was a dream, he'd just wake up and have memories of an interesting place and an interesting person. That's what Iceland wanted to try first; he wanted to try to wake himself up.

Iceland had read an article in a magazine about forcing yourself to wake up from bad dreams not too long ago. He tried to remember some of the techniques the article had talked about. He remembered the most obvious one first: pinching yourself. As ridiculous as pinching himself seemed to him, Iceland reached out and pinched the skin on top of his right hand. It didn't really hurt, but it wasn't a pleasant feeling either. But, nothing happened. He was still standing in the middle of the grassy meadow; the trees with the cotton candy webs were still there. He could still see the river shining to his right. Iceland frowned, and then tried again. This time he pinched his upper arm, even harder than he had pinched his hand. The pinch hurt a bit more this time, but it yielded the same results: none.

Iceland thought about the next thing the article said to do. He could remember things like "look for something out of the ordinary, realizing that it's not normal will wake you up." Well, obviously that hadn't worked, for everything Iceland had seen so far was abnormal. Then Iceland remembered the next thing the article had told him to do. It had said that if you focus on reading something, and actually focus on it, it wakes up a part of your brain that isn't active during sleep, waking you up. The only things Iceland had to read were the blue book and the list of "useful" spells. He grabbed the blue book and flipped it to one of the pages that had writing on it. Iceland stared intently at the word "the" on the page, spelling it in his head, then he went on to read the word "river." He focused on the words, willing himself to read then and spell them, but nothing happened. Iceland closed the book in defeat. Nothing was working. That's when he remembered the last thing on the list, "if nothing works, just wait it out, all dreams come to an end." Iceland scowled to himself. He really didn't want to just wait it out.

Iceland bent down and picked up the silk bag and slung it over his shoulder. He was going to explore, maybe that would make his time in this dream world go by much faster. He set out in the opposite way that they had come by the cloud-boat. Iceland looked over at the trees that he was passing as he walked. There wasn't any defined path, so he really was just on his own in finding his way around this place. He could hear giggling coming from the trees but ignored it. His last encounter with a pixie was less than helpful. As he walked several balls of colored light flew around him, but none stayed long enough to introduce themselves. Iceland kept walking until he reached a wall of trees. These trees were significantly darker than the trees he had been passing earlier, they were also thicker and there were lots more. Iceland didn't want to turn around. He had come this far already. He cautiously walked towards the woods and started walking among the trees.

The first part of the woods wasn't that bad. There was room for him to walk around the trees and he could see where he was walking. It amazed him how the scene had changed from bright and happy – reminiscent of Candyland – to dark and almost nightmare-ish. The undergrowth of the forest had gotten thicker, and Iceland had started tripping more than when he started walking through the trees.

Iceland tripped over a large branch on the ground and fell face-first into the dirt and sticks. He pushed himself up and sat with his back against a tree. He looked down at himself and saw that the white shirt he was wearing was now covered in brown dirt, and he had a cut on his arm that was bleeding. He cursed to himself and looked at the silk bag that held all of his stuff. It was ripped as well. But as soon as he looked down at the bag, it had started to mend itself. Iceland rolled his eyes; of course the bag mended itself. His arm stung, but there really wasn't anything he could do about it. Norway hadn't given him any type of first-aid supplies. There was the flask with the unknown liquid in it, but Iceland wasn't about to pour that on an open wound he had on his arm.

Iceland heard the rustling of the foliage not too far from where he was sitting. He jerked his head towards where he thought the source of the noise would be. He didn't see anything, but he could see a faint glowing. He turned away; it was probably just the pixies watching him. Then he heard the rustle again, this time even closer to him. When he looked this time, he saw something run behind one of the trees. Iceland jumped up and decided that it was definitely time to continue on his way, regardless of how his arm felt. Iceland started walking at an increased pace, still being careful as to where he stepped.

After a stretch of tree branches that was fairly difficult for Iceland to get over, he had to take a short break in order to catch his breath. He leaned back against another tree whenever he heard something charging towards his location. He looked up in time to see a large white buck fly over the branches he had just climbed over. The deer landed not far from him and Iceland stared at it in awe. The buck was a pure white; the only thing that stood out was the animal's black eyes. The deer even appeared to be glowing; its antlers were emitting a light that made it easier for Iceland to see in the dark forest. The buck cautiously approached Iceland, and Iceland tried to make himself look as unthreatening as possible.

When the deer reached Iceland, it sniffed his injured arm. Iceland rolled up his sleeve to let the deer look at it. The buck sniffed the wound on his arm before thoroughly licking Iceland's arm. As soon as the animal's tongue hit Iceland's wound, it started to throb and sting. Iceland jerked his arm away and shouted in pain, "What the hell was that for?" The deer took a few steps back and Iceland looked down at his arm. The stinging started to fade and he noticed the cut starting to close up. The pain went away completely and Iceland's arm was back the way it had been before his fall.

The buck came back to Iceland and he reached up and patted the deer's neck, "Thanks," Iceland said, "Didn't mean to yell at you. Didn't realize you were helping me." The deer just snorted in reply. Iceland stared at the deer for a moment until a thought popped into his head. Iceland looked up at the buck that was still standing in front of him, "Hey," he asked, "Would you mind giving me a ride out of here?"

The deer turned its head away from Iceland, as if to think about it for a moment, then turned back to him and rubbed his head into the side of Iceland's head and neck, being mindful of its antlers. Iceland let out a light laugh and stroked the deer's neck; "I'll take that as a yes then."