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Moomin slipped on the icy ground and landed face first on Snufkin's lap, where the mumrik sat fishing on the riverbank. His face turned red, as Snufkin patted his ears gently. He whined in humiliation at the thought of Snufkin seeing his entire fall and also acting as a landing pad.
Snufkin didn't say anything. He was a good friend like that. After a while, Moomin had finally received enough gentle pettings to be properly comforted, so he sat up and gasped in surprise at the river. It was frozen solid, just like the icy ground he had slipped on. Snufkin's fishing rod was dangled through a hole cut out in the middle of the river, although it didn't seem to be catching many fish.
"She must be lonely." Moomin sighed. "And cold."
"The Groke? Yes, I don't imagine that she attracts too many friends when she freezes everything she touches."
"But what if she didn't?"
"I don't think she can help it, Moomin."
"No... But we can!"
"Oh?"
Explaining to Moominmamma why they both suddenly wanted to learn how to knit at the same time turned out to be much easier than expected. This was because Moominmamma was far too excited to teach them to bother asking any questions about why.
"What colour do you think we should use?" Moomin asked Snufkin, who hummed thoughtfully.
"Which one's your favourite?"
"Blue. But maybe we should use warmer colours?"
"Orange? Red?"
"Yellow? Maybe we can mix them up?"
A large yellow scarf was the first thing they made together. It was scruffy and scraggly and missing a few lines here and there. It was soft though and warm. It was thick enough and long enough to wrap a couple of times around The Groke's neck-part and cover up her mouth and nose if she wished.
They left it on the veranda table that night with a gift tag that said. "To: The Groke, From: Moomin & Snufkin".
It was gone in the morning and, the next time they saw The Groke, she had a long yellow scarf wrapped around her shoulders like a shawl. It was frosted at the ends, but when The Groke looked at it, she grinned. It was a positive, Moomin and Snufkin decided, but it wasn't a success, as The Groke still froze everything she touched.
"Where did that lovely scarf you were making together go?"
"We finished it, Mamma!" Moomin told her, happily. "Now The Groke has it."
"The Groke! What on earth for? You didn't trade it for something, did you?"
"No, Mamma. It was a gift for her. To help keep her warm!"
"Goodness! I'm glad I have such sweet boys." Moominmamma cooed and clutched the two of them close to her chest, nuzzling their cheeks with her snout.
"It was Moomin's idea."
"Snufkin volunteered to help as soon as I told him."
Her sweet, darling sons! They were so kind and cute and thoughtful! Moominmamma felt very lucky.
Their second project was a pair of large mittens. They were both tired of the colour yellow after looking at it for so long while making the scarf, so they selected another warm colour from the available wool - a deep amber. This second project was a lot easier for two people to work on, as they simply took on one mitten each, although a lot more difficult in terms of technique.
They concentrated intensely as Moominmamma showed them what to do and how to correct their mistakes.
"Why are you making the mittens so large?"
"They're for The Groke, Mamma."
"Another present? You boys certainly are spoiling her." Moominmamma teased.
"The scarf freezes when she touches it." Snufkin began.
"But if she's wearing mittens, she won't be touching anything!" Moomin finished the explanation. "So she'll be warm and she'll stop freezing things!"
The mittens were not much better quality than the scarf, as children developing a brand new skill don't tend to produce the most beautiful items. They had a few stitches missing, but (Moomin and Snufkin were very proud of this) they also had a drawstring around the wrists so The Groke could pull them shut to keep her paws warm inside.
This time, Snufkin and Moomin stopped up in Moomin's bedroom and watched out of the window as The Groke hesitantly approached the veranda when she saw the item sitting on the table. They had left the mittens on the veranda table, exactly where they left the scarf, with the same gift tag.
She carefully put the mittens on and picked up the little tag next to them. She grinned at the tag, then up at the bedroom window. They waved at her and she waved back with one large, mitten-covered paw.
There was no frost on the mitten.
The two of them saw The Groke a few days later. She waved happily grinning and the two waved back. The Groke slowly glided towards them and did not leave any ice behind her. Still, she moved as close as she could to their campfire, then slowly moved on top of it.
"Are you warm now?" Moomin asked.
The Groke grinned, but shook her head. She held up her paws and the ends of her scarf to show them off to the two boys. The mittens and scarf were no longer frosty, but when she moved away from the fire, only smoking black wood was left in its place.
Snufkin and Moomin shared a disappointed glance. After all their hard work, she was still cold. The Groke groaned sadly as she looked at the remains of the campfire.
"It's okay." Moomin tried to reassure her. "We can fix it."
"No, we can't." Snufkin said, poking at the pile of firewood with one finger. "It's frozen solid."
The Groke hung her head and made an apologetic sound. She glided back into the forest, the same way she came.
"Was it something I said?" Snufkin asked, watching The Groke retreat into the distance.
Moomin frowned. "I wasn't talking about the fire."
"This is it, I think!" Moomin cheered, as he and Snufkin held up a sleeve each. A huge, red coat, trimmed with white fur on the inside, as well as around the wrists, hem and the hood. It had pockets on both sides to put cold paws in, and pockets on the inside as well to keep all of her things. They did their best to knit a pattern into the pockets in yellow yarn and they were both quite proud of the result.
"Do you think she'll like it?"
"She's liked everything else so far. No reason to worry about it now."
"I suppose you're right, Snufkin. I just hope it will finally be enough to keep her warm."
They decided to give this gift to The Groke in person, so on the veranda table, where they usually left her gifts, instead they left a note.
Dear Miss Mrs Ms Mx The Groke
You are cora cordil cordially invited to tea at Snufkin's tent. We do not have any tea but we have coffee and also coko coco hot chocolate which we think you will like better prefer. Please come over on Sunday night. No need to RSVP becus beecas as we are unsure what it means (we think the letters stand for something but we are not sure what). We hope to sea you their there.
Kind regrads regards
Moomin and Snufkin
Moomin had dictated the letter, as Snufkin wrote, so it was riddled with spelling errors that Moomin went over and fixed for him. Snufkin blushed and grumbled that next time he would dictate the letter and Moomin would write it. Moomin argued that Snufkin never invited anyone except Moomin to his tent anyway.
The Groke turned up on Sunday night, around seven o'clock. She looked longingly at the fire and groaned. She managed to restrain herself from climbing atop it, as Snufkin boiled the kettle and prepared the drinks.
"Do you prefer coffee-" he paused as if waiting for her to answer, which she remained silent to. "-or cocoa?" She groaned and tilted her head forwards.
He put cocoa in her mug and handed it over.
"Please forgive Moomin for being late. We didn't know what time you would be here. I'll call him now."
Snufkin put two fingers in his mouth and let out three sharp whistles in succession. A frantic silhouette of a moomin was seen throwing himself around his bedroom. Seconds later, Moomin threw himself down the rope ladder under his window and ran, panting, all the way to Snufkin's tent.
"You can get on top of the campfire, if you'd like." Snufkin said. "I don't mind. The night is rather warm."
The Groke grinned and slid forwards onto the campfire, settling onto the strikingly hot flames comfortably. The fire would not last long under her, but it was a small comfort while it lasted. For a few moments, she could be warm.
"Sorry I'm late! I didn't realise you were here already!" Moomin apologised before diving into Snufkin's tent and returning with a large, wrapped parcel. "We have another present for you." He said, offering up the package to The Groke. "We made it ourselves, sorry if it's not very good."
The Groke put down her mug of cocoa in front of her and took the parcel, carefully making sure not to touch Moomin's paws. Thank you, the wind seemed to whisper, you have both been kind to me.
The Groke slowly unwrapped the parcel, opening it just as the flames beneath her feet's flickered into nothing. Inside it was a coat. A beautiful red coat with a white fur trim inside and yellow patterns knitted into it and large pockets to put her paws in. She excitedly stuck her arms through the holes and attempted to button the coat up. The mittens stopped her from being able to move her paws enough to navigate buttons. Snufkin watched her curiously, wondering why she didn't just take her mittens off for a few moments.
"Did you need help with your coat, Groke?" Moomin offered and, when she nodded, approached her and buttoned up the coat, tucking the scarf on the inside. He turned to Snufkin. "She doesn't want to freeze the coat, so she's not taking off her mittens."
"Ah."
The Groke nodded, pleased that he understood. She held out her arms at her sides and spun around in a quick, simple circle.
"You look very nice, Groke!" Moomin said. "Are you warm enough yet?"
She hugged herself and nodded her head slowly, as though still deciding. Then, she changed her mind and shook it. The coat had helped her become a great deal warmer, but she was still freezing everything she walked on.
Moomin frowned, disappointed. "Oh dear, I'm not sure what else to make for you..."
"Socks." Snufkin suggested. "And good, sturdy boots."
"I can't believe you promised The Groke we would make her boots." Moomin lectured. "We don't know how to make boots!"
"We don't know how to knit."
"That's not the point!"
"Besides, we don't need to make any boots. We already have some."
Moomin blinked. "We do?"
"Yes. Don't you remember? I came back one day with boots too big and you and Moominpappa and Sniff thought there was a monster because of how large the footprints were. I think Moominmamma still has them."
"Oh. Well. That's alright then."
One sock was a dark mossy green, the other a light sky blue. Moomin and Snufkin didn't think it mattered too much, as nobody would see them under the shiny brown boots they were also gifting The Groke. The pair of socks were much better quality than the other presents had been. They had really started to get the hang of knitting.
"Does The Groke even have feet?" Snufkin asked in one of their knitting sessions.
"I don't know, but why else would she accept socks and boots?"
They handed over the socks, along with the boots as soon as they finished knitting them. The Groke pulled her socks onto her feet by herself, while Snufkin and Moomin helped her lace up the boots.
Moomin jumped in place happily. "Go on! Have a walk and see if they're warm enough for you!" He encouraged. Snufkin stood next to him and gave a thumbs-up.
The Groke stepped forward, her first footfall landed with a solid thud against the ground. She paused and turned to look at the two boys.
"It's okay! They're supposed to make that noise when you walk!"
She began to walk again, stomping her shiny new boots on the ground and leaving behind huge, monstrous footprints. She looked back at her footsteps and noticed with delight that they were completely free of ice or frost. Only footprints were left behind.
The Groke's eyes watered, and she wiped at them with her mittens. Moomin patted his sides until he remembered he didn't have any clothes and therefore he didn't have any pockets. Snufkin produced a slightly grass-stained handkerchief and attempted, unsuccessfully, to brush it off before he handed it over to The Groke. She took it and wiped her eyes.
You have made me so happy. Thank you.
She swept them up into a hug against her large chest. They were cuddled close in woolen yarn that they had knitted themselves by their brand new friend and, despite the deep cold that brewed up inside her, they felt safe and comfortable and warm. And as The Groke held her dear new friends in her arms, she, for the first time in her life, felt safe and comfortable and warm and not at all alone.