The Spaniard happened to be strolling near, that oblivious grin on her face. She merely came here for sight seeing and disn't intend on meeting anybody here, but she was to be in for a surprise. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted familiar pigtails, and then glasses. This couldn't be her, could it? She turned for a better look, and what she didn't want happened. It was her, one of the countries that threw her into poverty. Although she was fine with her lifestyle, she couldn't help but feel a bit spiteful towards the Brit for their rough past. She gulped, her smile fading a bit, becoming less lively. "...Inglaterra..." she muttered quietly, recognizing the fellow female nation.