[rain is something Prussia is used to. You couldn't be a nation in pre-World War 2 Europe and not be used to rain and working in it. Rain always gave him a bit of a nostalgic feeling, and, even when he ceased being an active nation, the rain still brought forth memories of blood, death, gun powder, and smoke.

He didn't hurry to a shelter. He strolled to the nearest shelter instead, humming to himself as his booted feet made squelching sounds in mud that was rapidly developing.

He doesn't even notice if there's another person already under the shelter, not yet, anyways.]