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A Stranger that Speaks of Snufkin
Moomin has always been a light sleeper.
He thinks it’s better like that! How many adventures would he have missed had he kept on snoring? No, much better to be woken at the creak of a floorboard or the howl of the wind. Things are more exciting that way.
Of course, things are a little different during hibernation. Waking up means remembering how cold it is, how hungry he is, and how empty and lonely the valley can be in the middle of winter.
This year, it’s especially bad. And Moomin doesn’t want to blame Snufkin, as it’s certainly not his new friend’s fault, but it feels terribly unfair. All season he dreams of the adventures they might be having and when he wakes he remembers just how far away Snufkin is. Again and again- it’s torturous!
Moomin has never had a friend from outside the valley nor one that leaves the valley. He’s used to waiting for spring for everything to start again… but knowing that Snufkin is off having adventures without him and not snoozing away a few houses down is startingly different than usual.
Where is Snufkin now? Somewhere nicer than Moominvalley? Somewhere he wouldn’t want to leave?
Moomin shakes the thought away and slips out from beneath the covers with a shiver. Part of Moomin worries that if he thinks too hard his friend will feel it and not get his alone time at all. Moomin will get some water and find something else to think about, then he can fall back asleep.
He gets out into the hall and all the way down the stairs before he wonders what woke him. It’s not until he’s rummaging through the cupboard for a loose cup that the knock at the door comes again, so startling that Moomin yelps and a voice follows the knock in response.
“Hello? Is someone in there? Please can I come in, it's dreadfully cold out here!”
"Yes, of course!" Moomin calls, and fumbles to set aside the cup and hurry to the door.
In the seconds between turning from the kitchen to the hall, Moomin's heart warms and flutters. Snufkin! It must be, who else would knock when they know the house is asleep, or even be out and about during such a dreadful season?
"What are you doing out in the winter? Moominvalley is a dangerous place this time of year!" Moomin scolds gleefully and pulls the door open as quickly as he can. The cold wind bursts through with a great gust and the visitor stumbles in with it, clutching at their elbows and shivering, bundled from head to toe in scarves and warm wool. Moomin shuts the door as soon as he can and turns to the guest, hoping that Snufkin is in the mood for a hug- surely he must be if he was so hurried to get to moominhouse? But he stops short, before he can do anything rash, because the stranger is unwinding their scarf and stomping snow off their boots. And the stranger is not Snufkin.
"I must say, winter in these parts is nothing to sneeze at!" The person says as they finish freeing their face from the confines of their thick yellow wrap. Their coat is blue, not green, and their boots are black instead of brown. They have longer hair than Snufkin likes to keep his and it is blond instead of brunette. They also have much better manners, for they stick their hand out right away and say "Thank you for letting me in. I'm Amelia."
“I’m Moomin,” Moomin says, somewhat faint with disappointment and confusion. But Moominmamma raised him right and he knows how to treat a visitor. “Would you like some tea? We don’t have much to eat right now- we’re all supposed to be hibernating, but tea could warm you up!”
“Tea sounds lovely, that’s very kind of you.” Amelia says and looks around the house with all its furniture covered in sheets and firewood bundled for early Spring. “My! The place looks abandoned! I’m terribly sorry for waking you.”
“Oh no, oh no.” Moomin says and ushers the girl into the kitchen. “I often wake up in the winter. I’m glad to have company! And that you aren’t just stuck out in the cold. Tell me, why are you travelling through this valley in the winter? The mountain passes are treacherous!”
“Oh yes, I’m aware!” Amelia says and settles herself at the slightly dusty kitchen table. “You see, that’s where I’ve come from! The valley is positively peaceful compared to the conditions where I was hiking.” Outside the wind howls vehemently and Amelia shivers a little lower into her coat. “Well. Perhaps not peaceful but it is certainly a safer place to seek shelter than up in the peaks and the passes.”
Moomin busies himself with the water for tea and then sorts through the tins of dried leaves. Most of them are empty because the ancestor will get into foodstuffs that’s left out over winter, but there is enough for a pot of mint, so he brings the container down and begins to scoop it into the teacups.
“It’s a little strange,” Amelia says suddenly, “For you to let a complete stranger into your house in the middle of winter when everyone else is asleep.” She tilts her head at him. “I don’t think you even looked at me before you opened the door.”
“Mamma raised me to treat every guest with respect.” Moomin tells her promptly and then blushes. “And besides, I rather thought you were someone else.”
“Someone else!” She repeats, astonished. “You just got done telling me how treacherous this area is in the winter! Who else did you expect to be knocking at your door?”
“Ah, a good friend of mine.” Moomin blush deepens. “He’s away for the season- he’s a traveler, you see- and I miss him terribly. I had thought, perhaps, he had come back early.”
“Is that how it is?” Amelia raises an eyebrow. “I’m very sorry to disappoint.”
“Not at all!” Moomin exclaims. He busies himself with pouring the tea, deposits a cup in front of her and then seats himself across from her with a thump. “Please. I love to hear stories from out of the valley- tell me about your travels!”
As it happens, Amelia has been travelling up North for a few years now. She specializes in winter travel and she shows Moomin the skis and snowshoes that she had left on the porch. Moomin is delighted because Snufkin primarily told him stories of the South, though of course he had dabbled in the North in the past. Amelia has stories of icicles three times as tall as her. She explains the different kinds of skiing to Moomin and all of the equipment needed for it. She’s obsessed with finding the best sorts of snowfall and has different names for all the types she’s already encountered.
“I had no idea snow was good for so many different things,” Moomin tells her, rather impressed. “Or that there were so many different kinds! I had thought snow was just… snow!”
“I think it’s rather a waste that you sleep through it every year.” Amelia admits. “If we did that sort of thing where I lived we’d be asleep for a full half year!”
“I hear the snows come early up there.” Moomin agrees. “And leave late. I’m glad you can enjoy it like this though. It’d be rather miserable if you disliked it!”
“Some people are.” She says. “But those people move. Or they stay inside all winter and enjoy other things- hot drinks and cozy sweaters and the like. I’m one of the only people in my town who care enough about the snow to come out looking for more of it. Everyone else prefers the mountains in warmer weather.”
She tells him then about the summer in her village. They have swimming competitions while the waters are still cold and the first flowers are hung and dried above doorways. There’s a particular dance they do, winding brightly colored ribbon around a tall pole, and many delicious sounding autumn pastries that Moomin would like to have her add to Moominmamma’s recipe book.
“So will you head home soon?” Moomin asks. “It’s just after midwinter. The mountains certainly aren’t thawing yet but I’d hate to see you stuck unable to use your tools to get home.”
“It's something to consider,” Amelia concedes. “But I'm thinking of going further South this year. I want to see other sorts of places! I told my family not to worry if I don’t come back till next winter season!”
Moomin nods in somewhat distant understanding. He's only left the valley a few times after all and while he wonders what's beyond the places he knows, he also doesn't fancy the idea of leaving long enough to find out. The restlessness that seems to strike Snufkin, and now Amelia, is fairly foreign to him.
"Perhaps you'll run into Snufkin on your way down then," Moomin says, somewhat wistfully. "He should be headed this way shortly. I'm sure he'd have some travelling advice for you on the area. He's been all over down there."
"Snufkin?" Amelia blinks at him and Moomim remembers that she hasn't frequented the valley and so might not recognize the name. Before he can elaborate however, her expression sours and she sets her cup down with a clink. "Not Snufkin the mumrik?” Moomin nods and she purses her lips. “He’s a traveler? Wears green and plays a harmonica? He’s not the same one I know, surely…"
"No, that’s definitely Snufkin!" Moomin says. He's excited but also a little uncertain. Amelia does not look happy to hear about him, after all, which means that they must disagree about his very dear friend. Moomin knows several others in the valley don’t understand Snufkin’s peculiarities, but he aches to think about everyone outside the valley treating his friend that way as well. “You know him then?”
"I did once. Or someone named Snufkin that sounds like yours, anyway." she crosses her arms. "And if he is the same person then he's a liar and a troublemaker so I hope you don't expect too much."
Moomin rears back as if struck. Even with the way she'd said his name, all tight and disapproving, he hadn't expected to hear something so scathing. That's not Snufkin at all!
"You like him, don't you," Amelia says bitterly. "I did too. Everyone did! He walks into town with his music and his stories and his funny little hat and lets everyone fawn around him till the weather shifts. Then he’s off again- and he never comes back.”
“Well, no.” Moomin says, “He’s told me he prefers not to retrace his steps.”
“And he told me he’d visit!” she snaps. “He told everyone he would. And we waited too! But he never came back.” She picks up her tea again and blows across it, sending the steam billowing in the cold room. “It’s not just my town though. I’ve been all over the mountains to the North and half the towns say they’ve seen him, but only ever once. I used to ask after him, before I realized he was avoiding us on purpose.”
Moomin is frozen. Amelia is wound tight in her seat, clenching the cup in her hands and taking tight sips in between her recount of Snufkin’s reputation. A troublemaker and vagrant that wanders into town with nothing to trade but stories. He berates local law enforcement, asks for handouts, and disappears in the night or with a vague farewell so that people don’t really know he’s gone till he never comes back.
And it doesn’t sound like Snufkin. Well. Some parts do. Except Amelia says them so sharply while Moomin knows his friend’s mannerisms as soft harmless things. A tendency to wander off for walks and take fruit from the neighbor’s trees become criminal acts in her tale.
But other things Amelia says just aren’t right at all! Moomin can’t imagine his friend making promises he doesn’t intend to keep or making trouble for people that don’t deserve it.
But then again… Moomin hasn’t yet known him for a year. It feels like they have come leagues from where Snufkin was a stranger seated on the other side of a campfire, but it’s only been a few months. It’s not much compared to the years of wandering that seem to have built him a reputation in the North.
“And that’s what happened here too, isn’t it?” Amelia asks bitterly. “You welcomed him in and he stayed away unless it suited him. And then he left.”
“Yes!” Moomin blurts, “But I don’t think that’s such a bad thing! And he promised he’d be here at the start of Spring, so I don’t mind.”
“Well he’s not coming back, do you mind that?” She snaps.
That hangs in the air for a moment. Moomin’s ears are laid back, stunned at the volume and vehemence of her voice. Amelia has the decency to look chagrined and raises her cup to her lips again with both hands cradled around the warm porcelain.
“Um. I think I can uncover the couch if you’d like to rest for the night.” He finally manages and Amelia pauses before shaking her head.
“Thank you, but I think I should be on my way.”
“Oh,” Moomin startles and sets his own cup, lukewarm now, down. Everything feels somewhat foglike as he tries to balance his hosting instincts with his friendship instincts. He wants to tell Amelia that Snufkin would never disappoint anyone or be as cruel as she believes him to be, he wants to tell her he couldn’t possibly send her out in this weather, he wants to ask her to explain again why she thought Snufkin wouldn’t be back. “Yes, yes, here, let me help you with your coat.”
She gets wound back up in her winter gear and stands by the door while he wrings his paws some more, shifting from foot to foot and trying to decide what he’s feeling.
“It was very nice to meet you,” Moomin says, perfunctorily but also meaning it a little. It was nice to not be alone for a little bit, until she’d decided to spoil all his dreams for the spring. Just now it felt like winter would never end. “I hope you stop by the valley again- I really would like some of your recipes- and that your travels are safe. Stay warm!”
“It was nice to meet you too,” Amelia shakes his paw firmly, fingers squeezing tight within thick mittens. “And I appreciate the reprieve from the snow. I’m very sorry to have woken you, and also to somewhat dampen your mood. But I hope it helps, overall.”
“Snufkin told me he’d come back.” Moomin recites. “I know he hasn’t given you any reason to believe him… but I trust him. I’m certain he wouldn’t lie to me.”
At least, he really really hopes so.
Amelia gives him a sad look and then opens the door, letting in a thick gust of wind and healthy helping of snow. She clomps across the porch and hauls her gear up onto her back, then turns back to look at him evenly.
“You seem like a really nice troll.” Amelia says, nearly lost in the wind. “Maybe he will be back. But don’t forget- he’s a traveler. He doesn’t fit into any one place. He’ll never stay forever..”
Moomin swallows and Amelia trudges off the porch and into the snow. The winter evening swallows her up in the drifts and the gales, and Moomin shuts the door to keep the season out, and slowly trudges back upstairs.
He’s tired and falls asleep quickly, but unlike before, he tosses and turns.
After a few false starts, Spring settles over Moominvalley with the ease and confidence of a welcomed friend. Moomin sits by the window with his blanket tugged around his shoulders and stares at the green morning, frost touched from what might very will be their final cold night.
He knows it’s entirely reasonable for Snufkin’s definition of ‘the start of spring’ to be off from his own, that there’s all number of reasons Snufkin might not be here today, or even tomorrow or the day after that, but he can’t help but be nervous. Amelia’s warning had plagued his dreams for half the season and he’s already waited by this window for months as far as his subconscious is concerned.
“Moomin, darling?” Mamma calls through the door with a yawn. “You’re up, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Mamma!” Moomin calls back absently.
“Won’t you come downstairs? I’m going to pull out the jams. Would you prefer apricot or plum?”
Moomin keeps an eye on the path leading up to their house from the woods for a moment more, but ultimately sighs. If he’s going to mope he might as well do it with some of Mamma’s preserves in hand.
“Plum. I’m coming down now.”
When he comes downstairs he finds the kitchen partially reconstructed and a fire cooking in the belly of the stove. Mamma is making a grocery list and Pappa is in the living room, pulling the sheets off his favorite arm chair.
“Usually you’re downstairs before your father or I,” Mamma says mildly while Moomin slumps into one of the chairs at the table. “Are you feeling alright, dear?”
“Yes, Mamma,” Moomin sighs.
She pauses in her writing, eyeing him carefully, and then sets her pencil down, instead reaching out for her son’s paw. Moomin’s resolve crumbles.
“Do you think Snufkin will come back?” he cries. “I thought he would before, but now I’m not so sure.”
“Now, why is that?” She asks patiently.
“He doesn’t like visiting the same place twice, he told me so.” Moomin says hesitantly. “And besides, maybe he faced travel delays, or found somewhere better to stay. It’s a lot of work to travel all the way south only to come right back up north.”
“It is,” Mamma agrees. “But Snufkin said that’s what he would do, isn’t it? You were very excited about it when we went to sleep; what’s changed to make you worry?”
Moomin swings his feet in his chair, sinking back into it and staying quiet. Mamma is patient though, and waits till he finally admits “I woke up in the winter and let a guest in. She said she knew Snufkin from when he travelled through her town and that he’d told them he would visit and never did! What if he does that here? I’ll miss him so much!”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Mamma says and comes around the table to give him a hug. “I know you will. But why are you willing to listen to this visitor’s words when Snufkin told you himself he’d be back? I’m not as close with him as you are but he seems more likely to know his own whims than someone he met once a long time ago.”
“Yes, I thought so too,” Moomin admits. “But she said she’d asked after him in other places and he’d done things like that there too. And it seems odd that all of those people would lie about it.”
“Hm,” Mamma nods and rubs his back slowly. “That’s true. But it was still only one person telling you so. I think you had best ask Snufkin about it yourself and see what he has to say.”
“But what if I can’t!” Moomin exclaims. “What if he never comes to Moominvalley again?”
“Oh, I don’t think you need to worry about that quite yet,” Mamma smooths the fur on top of his head and nuzzles him lightly before moving back towards the stove where the fire needs another log. “And even if he doesn’t, I’m sure you could go out and find him if you were determined enough.”
Moomin sighs and traces the wood grain of the table with his paw. He pictures all the amazing places Snufkin might have gone while he was away for the season and how Moomin might not get to hear about any of them…
“Ah, Mamma, you’d best get out another tea cup,” Pappa says as he comes in from the living room with dusty sheets bundled up in his arms. “I see company walking up our front steps!”
“Oh, who is it?” Mamma asks placidly but Moomin has already jerked to his feet and run past Pappa to get to the front door. As he careens into the hall, a knock sounds out through the first floor.
“Coming!” Moomin calls and then wrenches the door open so fast that Snufkin, standing on the front porch with his harmonica in both hands, startles back half a step. "Snufkin! You're here!"
Moomin bounces in place twice, holding onto the door to keep from rushing forward with a hug that Snufkin may or may not want. It wouldn't do to scare off his friend when he'd only just gotten back. Snufkin calms after he realizes that it's just Moomin behind the door and a smile settles into his face, showing especially bright in the corners of his eyes.
"I am," he agrees readily. "It's nice to see you, Moomin."
Moomin glows.
"I'm so glad to see you too! Do you want to come in?" He opens the door a little wider and steps aside to make space. "Mamma was just about to make breakfast. We don't have a lot in the kitchen right now but the first breakfast after hibernation is always really good, I promise."
"If I'm not intruding," Snufkin says mildly and follows Moomin into the house when he beckons him in.
It's a lovely meal where Moomin carries most of the conversation but Snufkin gladly adds anecdotes about his trip in the spaces Moomin leaves for him. Mamma takes some of the root vegetables Snufkin offered from his pack to contribute to the meal, and soon the house smells pleasantly of sizzling oil and baking bread.
"You have traveled a great many places," Pappa says to Snufkin at a lull in the conversation. "Not as many as me of course, of course, but a great many indeed."
Snufkin smiles into his tea cup and shrugs. Moomin pushes some of the potatoes around on his plate, trying not to appear too invested in the conversation.
"Do you have any you like best?" Pappa asks. "I've been thinking we should take a trip sometime. Go some place a little more adventurous than the valley. What do you think?"
"Oh, I don't think I'm much good for recommendations." Snufkin says airily. "I don't spend much time in any one place and I don't go there for any of the attractions. I'm usually just passing through." He leans forward conspiratorially. "I think the only place I know enough about to recommend is Moominvalley. It's got plenty of adventure for me!"
Moomin has not stopped thinking about Amelia's warning, though it sits off to the side of his thoughts, mostly ignorable with Snufkin sitting beside him at the kitchen table. Hearing this, however, he nearly banishes it entirely from sheer glee and relief.
Sniff stops by, yawning, and settles in at the table once everyone has already finished to pick at the end of the fresh loaf of bread Mamma had made and scoop fat globs of jelly out of the jar. Moomin's parents head off to their corners of the house to start the spring cleaning and Snufkin stands for the door. Moomin rises with him, then hesitates.
"You know, some of the small mountains, before you get into the Lonely ones, still have snow on top." Snufkin tells him. "Would you like to go on a hike to see it?"
"Yes, that sounds wonderful!" Moomin agrees readily, "Let me get my scarf!" and so they set off from the porch just a few minutes later, traipsing across the meadows full of buds and tiny grass tufts.
It’s the perfect day for a hike of this sort. At first they slow for all the tiny wonders of Spring, stopping to peer into freshly thawed stream beds and ponder how long it will take for the leafy tree buds to open and unfurl. Moomin hasn’t lost his winter fur yet so when they start getting into the higher elevations he’s still comfortable and safe from the chill. Snufkin wraps his scarf around his face and crams his hat low over his ears to protect himself from the wind as they climb higher but it doesn’t seem to bother him much. They talk the whole way and Moomin can tell he’s smiling from the tone of his voice.
“Wow!” Moomin exclaims when they reach the top, and he means to say something else but he doesn’t get any further, voice caught in his throat as he breathes in the sights and the glee and the truth of it all. It still feels like he must be dreaming.
But right then, Snufkin comes up to stand beside him and leans against his shoulder, lifting a hand to point at some shape in the distance that Moomin can’t pay attention to because this is the first time Snufkin has touched him all day- in months!- and it makes Moomin giddy.
Much better than a dream.
Moomin sighs contentedly and says “I’m so glad you came back after all, Snufkin.” And then he promptly claps his paws over his mouth, which only makes it worse.
Snufkin looks at him with surprise and drifts a few inches away in the process. Moomin feels suddenly cold in a way he hadn’t before.
“I’m sorry!” Moomin exclaims, “I don’t, I didn’t mean.” He buries his snout in his paws and shakes his head quickly, “Aggghhhh.”
“It’s alright Moomin,” Snufkin says patiently while Moomin scrambles for the words to express what he’s feeling, what he means, and if he even wants Snufkin to know any of that. “Take your time.”
So they do. Moomin breathes and sorts through what he’s feeling and Snufkin stands beside him and waits patiently. He doesn’t look out at the view anymore, just watches Moomin carefully without any of the judgement Moomin deserves.
“I was worried I’d never see you again,” Moomin finally admits. “Not at first! I went to sleep thinking you’d definitely be back in the spring. But I woke up in the winter and someone was out in the cold so I invited them in. And. They said they knew you and that you did this all the time- made friends and then. Left.” Moomin peeks out at his friend from behind his paws and then hides again. He feels ashamed now, for having believed it, and now Snufkin knows he doesn’t trust him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have believed them.”
“Why not? They’re right.” Snufkin says and Moomin looks up, startled. The mumrik is still looking at him calmly, but when Moomin emerges from his hiding place he turns back to the view and sinks his hands into his pockets, pulling out the harmonica to fiddle with.
“They are?” Moomin asks quietly, “But, why would you do that?” Snufkin could be a little irreverent at times, but Moomin didn’t think he was one to treat people unkindly.
“That’s what travelers do, Moomin.” Snufkin says, “and that’s what I am. A wanderer. I’ve never been anything but honest about that much.” He holds up his harmonica and the sun glints on the metallic casing. “Some people take issue with it. They think I’m callous, that I don’t care for anyone or anything. But that’s not true. I just do it differently than others. I haven’t traveled over the same paths twice in a long time by now- most of those people and places probably think I was lying about appreciating their hospitality and hoping to see them again. They aren’t any less my friends, just because I don’t make specific plans to visit them again. But I’ve heard that many think that of me.”
“That’s horrible!” Moomin says and Snufkin’s face falls for a brief moment until Moomin continues “You are a little different from other people, but that’s what makes you Snufkin! It’s not your fault at all!” He shuffles his feet in the snow, mussing the clear round footprints so that they merge with the narrow bootprints in the snow beside him. “At least. As long as you didn’t tell any of them you’d be back in the spring, and then didn’t go.”
“No, Moomin.” Snufkin says softly. “I’ve never told anyone else that.”
“Then… why did you tell me that?”
Snufkin raises his harmonica to his lips and blows out a few bars, a chord progression that echoes off the mountain and then falls down into the valley below them. When he lowers the instrument, he doesn’t put it away, just lowers it and taps it habitually against his palm.
“There are a lot of wonderful places in the world, Moomin.” Snufkin says readily. It makes Moomin’s heart sink. “I couldn’t be happy with just one of them. But also there are always people too, and people aren’t always so wonderful. I don’t often fit in, at least not for long. I don’t mind, but they usually do.”
“But… I don’t mind at all.” Moomin says. Snufkin smiles and shakes his head.
“No, you don’t. And do you remember when you asked me about my travel plans?”
“Yes,” Moomin shuffles his feet. “I asked if you’d come back to Moominvalley.”
“Everywhere else has told me, ‘Snufkin, you really must come visit again!’” Snufkin says, raising the pitch of his voice to mimic the enthusiasm the hosts must have showed. “But you asked , not insisted in the way people think is polite or friendly but is actually quite rude.” He sighs. “Moominmamma has never looked at me strangely when I rejected an invitation for tea, and My makes fun, but she’s never actually upset when I don’t want to play a game.”
“Of course! We love to have you with us, but we all know you need to follow your own whims,” Moomin says. He doesn’t understand what’s so special about that. Snufkin smiles at his outburst and continues.
“If I had told you then that I’d be moving on but that I might come to visit sometime, would you have tried to stop me? Or thought me any less of your friend?”
“... I would have been very sorry to see you go,” Moomin admits. “But not enough to feel any of that. You can go wherever you like! And you’ll always be my friend.”
“That’s what I thought you’d say,” Snufkin says. “And it made it a lot easier to decide to tell you I’d be back. I didn’t feel like coming back once would make you believe things that weren’t true.”
“Like… that you live here? And will always be here?” Moomin hazards and Snufkin nods. “So you won’t come back next year.”
“I’m not sure yet,” Snufkin admits. “It’s only the first day of Spring.”
Moomin’s heart aches. It’s not as sharp or as deep as it had been when Amelia had told him Snufkin wouldn’t come back, and it is deeply undermined by the easy smile on Snufkin’s face and his presence overall. Moomin has a whole three seasons with his best friend to go before he has to ask again! And Snufkin is right, he’d be terribly sad if he never came back… but he’d never try to stop him. He would only be happy for his friend, and maybe hope to receive a letter or two.
“But Moomin, I was always going to be here today, no matter what.” Snufkin reaches out and takes Moomin’s paw. It’s the second time they’ve touched all year! At this rate he might get a hug before the week is out! Moomin squeezes it, gently. “I told you I would be here with you and all Winter long, that’s where I was heading.”
Moomin warms, bright and quick like a flare, before settling back to a steady pulsing heat that fills him up behind his breastbone.
He was right all along! Snufkin is his very best friend. And even if Amelia was right that he won’t be here forever… Moomin was the one who knew Snufkin would keep his promise. And Moomin is the one who gets to stand on a mountaintop in Springtime and hold his hand.
“I’m so glad you came back,” Moomin says again, though it feels different than when it had slipped out accidentally the first time. “I’m just! Really glad to see you!”
“Me too, Moomin.” Snufkin smiles and swings their hands back and forth lightly. “Me too.”