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Pinsk had many thoughts that he knew Turaw would agree upon.
The two were known to disagree on many things, as is expected of once-capitals. If in a time there were two (or more than one) capitals, it would be more or less expected for them to not be able to agree on many things. That came the same way for those two. But that didn't mean there weren't at all things they could agree upon.
It may come as a surprise to many, though. Not because of the things they could agree upon, but on the fact that they were ever capitals in the first place.
Pinsk had long forgotten about the distaste he felt over others not knowing, though. It was a given, especially because Belarus wasn't really a country of great importance in the international scheme.
At most, in these days, it was seen as nothing more than being Russia's yes-man. Which he found annoying, as true as it may be for the current government. Belarus himself probably doesn't like that sort of perception, but he hadn't a choice there as well.
Those who knew were likely Belarusians themselves, historians, or knew of Turaw and Pinsk when the two were much younger. Say, seven hundred years past? Something close to that number, yes.
Their history was often shrouded with the times of the Russian Empire, followed by the Soviet Union, then the modern day; their time before that would expand to Poland-Lithuania, if lucky. But the history of Belarus was much more than that.
Both Turaw and Pinsk had once represented the capital cities of the Principality of Turaw and Pinsk. Which was obvious, it was in the name.
Why would that be important? Because the Zemstvo of the Principality of Turaw and Pinsk—or Dzianisiy—was the current Personification of Belarus' son. He has long died, yes, but he was still the old man's son.
Unlike their former country, who was only half a Dryhavich, the two were born fully one. That didn't mean they think of their old country differently for being half Palachan, though. Rus Land hadn't even a nick of Slavic blood, but she was still regarded with respect as the rightful Zemstvo of the land.
Ah, yes. Rus Land.
The matter of Belarus' mother was one of the few things both he and Turaw shared thoughts on.
On how unfortunate Belarus was to have someone like that as his mother.
Well, Rus Land was good. She was a good mother to Polotsk. She was a good grandmother to Dzianisiy.
Russia wasn't.
The only reason why Belarus and his son managed to stay alive as long as they did, was because they were conquered by Lithuania first. Not the Muscovites. If they were, then they'd be dead, and the Belarus of now wouldn't exist.
Russia was—
"Iziamir," Turaw called out for his fellow. Pinsk's attention was directed as the man, who took it as a sign to continue. "Are you thinking about her?"
The way he said that word would make it obvious to Pinsk who he meant. And to the other East Slavs, he supposed. "Why do you think she's that way?"
"What way?" Turaw's brows furrowed in confusion. "I know what you mean, I just don't get the meaning behind that question."
"I mean the drastic change," Pinsk frowned. "Clearly we can both agree on how different one of her own self is compared to the other."
Turaw chose not to answer.
Perhaps because Belarus was here now.
"We can," Turaw spoke after the drawn out silence. "but the reasons, we might have differing ideas of."
"What are you both debating about?" Belarus asked with a curious look. The man's voice used to lack any sort of emotion, but now it seemed to have returned to a time from long ago. Pinsk wondered why it happened in the first place.
"Your mother," Turaw replied to the question, the both of them ignoring the strange noise Belarus made over those words. "There is something terribly wrong with her."
"Well, she's Russia," Belarus paused. "What did you expect from someone like her?"
"Maybe she should invest in a therapist." Pinsk mumbled with no direction whatsoever.
Belarus seemed to have found that statement hilarious, though. Seeing as to how he made yet another strange noise on it. "I honestly think that won't work. No human would understand the things we Personifications go through."
"Why do you think that way?" It was now Turaw's time to question. "Because they're not old enough?"
"Personally, I think it's because their emotional depth isn't as much as ours," Pinsk interjected. "Nothing that has to do with age."
"Hm," the older city let out an unassuming hum. "Let's hear out what Dzmitriy Sciraĺdavič has in opinion to this."
"I mean, it could be both," he shrugged, seemingly uncaring over whatever this topic drifted into. "Not only are they limited in their age, but as to how our own emotions are amplified versions of theirs."
Turaw sighed at that statement. "Always that way," he grumbled. "Whatever, Iziamir, we should go now."
"To where?" Belarus tilted his head at the query. Pinsk's eye twitched at how much it reminded him of someone.
"Going off with Minsk somewhere..." Pinsk replied, before he halted. "Dima?"
"Yes?" Belarus wondered at the sudden mention. Turaw looked rather curious as well.
"Give me a sentence you would use to describe the person who calls herself your mother." Pinsk made sure his voice remained monotonous.
Belarus looked to be rather deep in thought at the question. Until he replied with, "An insane woman, unhealthy in the ways of dealing with the consequences of her own actions?"
Somehow, Pinsk could feel that Turaw would agree on what Belarus just said. Pinsk would too.