Chapter Text
He supposed it was to be expected, this feeling of restlessness. His father had travelled almost all of his youth, after all, and he’d always enjoyed a good adventure, but Moomin couldn’t help but feel a little frustrated. Once again he’d woken up barely 2 weeks into winter and found it nearly impossible to get back to sleep for longer than one night. It had been slowly getting worse, this habit of waking during winter while the rest of his family slept peacefully in their hibernation.
Once or twice Little My had woken up as well and kept him company, and a couple of times Snorkmaiden stirred for a few days, but otherwise everyone slumbered while Moomin sat awake. Everyone except Too-Ticky, anyway, who he was eternally thankful for. She was always happy to offer company at the bath house, and as the years had passed she’d taught him a lot about various survival skills. The Snork was often awake for winter too, but he never visited him, knowing he was far too busy with whatever he was inventing next.
For a long time Moomin thought this feeling was just a winter feeling, the kind born of frustration and boredom, and it did seem to go away as soon as spring returned, until now anyway. Last year he had brushed it off and ignored it, thrown himself into the goings-on of the Valley and assumed that everything would return to normal next year.
But it didn’t.
It was already a month into spring, everyone had relaxed back into their usual routines and Moomin had been enjoying the days spent with his friends, but this confounded feeling of being restless remained. He was fairly sure he’d thoroughly annoyed everyone with his apparent inability to stay still by now, everyone but Snufkin anyway, who was always happy to join him on a hike.
He found himself rather envious of his dear friend. He’d always been sad when Snufkin left for his winter travels, although as they grew he understood and accepted his needs with a grace that a younger Moomin had been incapable of, but now it was accompanied by something akin to jealousy. The Snufkin was so free to just wander wherever his feet took him for an entire season, not needing to concern himself with causing upset and worry to people he left behind. Not that his friend was ignorant to the feelings of everyone back in Moomin Valley! Not at all, but everyone knew the simple truth of the fact that Snufkin left in winter and there was no ifs, ands or buts about it.
Moomin leaned his chin on his hand, staring out of his bedroom window at the sunset blanketing the Valley in golden-bronze light with a sigh. He really needed to talk to someone about this. He was becoming irritable with it all and bottling things up was never a good idea. Moominpappa is the one he should probably bring this up to, it was his stories of his own travels Moomin was sure had prompted this whole thing, but as much as he loved his father he wasn’t entirely confident in his ability to listen to Moomin’s problems rationally. Indeed, he was more likely to declare it time for an adventure and get carried away with himself, which wouldn’t help Moomin and his dilemma at all.
Moominmamma it was then.
Moomin found himself hovering in the doorway of their kitchen, twisting the tuft of his tail between his fingers as he considered how best to bring everything up.
“Are you alright there dear? Why don’t you come and sit down, I’ll get us some tea.”
How Moominmamma seemed to always know exactly what someone needed Moomin would never understand, but not for the first time he was incredibly glad of it.
He took a seat at their kitchen table, gratefully accepting a steaming cup of tea when placed in front of him. Mamma had made it with honey and cinnamon, a favourite of his. She really was eerily good at knowing what his moods were.
“Now then,” she began, taking her own seat and looking at him with the same soft expression she always had when he needed to talk about something serious with her, “what has you so wound up?”
Moomin sighed.
“You know how Pappa travelled so much, when he was younger? Is that… normal, for moomins?”
Moomin stared down at his tea, a slight frown creasing his forehead.
“You and Pappa have always said it’s the nature of moomins to hibernate all through winter, but he couldn’t have hibernated through his travels. He’d have mentioned it, anyway, with how detailed his memoirs are. So what’s… Is that normal? The travelling? Or is that a one-off kind of thing?”
Mamma hummed gently, thinking over his many questions.
“This is about your waking up during winter.”
There was no question in her voice, but Moomin nodded all the same.
“Well dear, I suppose it is normal for us to be more active when we are young. Pappa isn’t the only one who travelled in years long past, although my own weren’t quite so… adventurous.”
Mamma smiled at him, and despite everything he found himself relaxing.
“It’s not just being active though Mamma, it’s…” Moomin fumbled over his words, his head bobbing from side to side, “it’s more like feeling… uncomfortable?”
The word didn’t seem right, and Mamma nodded at him to continue.
“Maybe not quite uncomfortable. More like restless? It’s not that I’m not happy, I am I promise! But there’s this feeling I have, like how Snufkin describes how he feels when he takes one of his trips ‘yonder’ sometimes. Like I just can’t stay where I am without going mad.”
Moomin looked up at his mother with his ears drooped to the sides, talking about this was a lot more distressing than he imagined.
Mamma only rested a paw on his own and gave him a small smile.
“We had thought perhaps that if we raised you hibernating every year you wouldn’t have to deal with this.”
Her words confused him, his expression changing from despair to curiosity in an instant. Mamma leaned back and pulled Granny’s book of remedies from his apron, he hadn’t even known she had it with her, and began thumbing through the pages. Moomin leaned over to see what she was looking up, although he had no need to, she read the passage aloud for him.
“Wanderlust. The intense desire and longing for travel with no destination in mind. It is noted that all young moomins experience wanderlust in their youth, and the only cure is to listen to one’s heart.”
Mamma did not add any comments of her own to the description, simply placed the book down with the page open and went back to her tea, allowing Moomin to process the information for himself.
“Listen to one’s heart… What does that mean? I should travel?” Moomin looked at his mother, hoping she would have a firm answer for him, but her soft gaze told him that she did not.
“You know what it means, my dear.” Mamma got up from her seat and pet him between his ears, leaving him to his thoughts.
Yes, he knew what it meant. Granny’s remedies could sometimes be vague, but this one felt crystal clear to him. If he listened to his heart, it was telling him to travel. Go and see the world, figure out his place in it, experience life in other places before he settled into anything.
His mind made up, Moomin cleaned up his tea cup and returned to his room. Tomorrow, he would tell his parents properly and begin preparations.
It was time for him to travel, just like his parents.