Chapter Text
The Joxter hummed as he walked through the forest. He was travelling the world in search of sights and experiences, as Mumriks are want to do.
Between frustrating authorities, a nice nap in a warm patch of sun, and a comfortably full belly, there wasn’t much more a Mumrik could ask for.
Well, perhaps the Joxter could ask for a lack of a backpack and tent, he missed sleeping in trees, but he couldn’t really do that, he had to try and be more responsible for his kit.
He squinted to try and find an out of place cyan blur up ahead that he knew would be his dear Snufkin.
He couldn’t spot him in the distance and scanned around to see if he’d wandered off to either side of the treeline.
The Joxter paused and brought a paw to his chin in thought. “Now, where could that silly boy of mine be?”
With a giggle and the rustle of a tree branch above him, the Joxter felt a weight come down on his hat.
The Joxter gasped. “Oh!! What a world! It seems I’ve become prey to a most mighty hunter!” He called out dramatically before carefully sending himself down onto the ground in defeat.
“Surely I will be slain right here! Who knew Mumriks were so ill-prepared!” He continued, earning a new bought of giggles from above him.
The weight on his hat shifted as a pair of comfortable Mymble boots lowered themselves onto his chest and the brim of his hat was pulled up by a little brown paw.
The Joxter’s cheek was poked and prodded with a little claw, and he laughed.
“Noo! Prey isn’t supposed to laugh dad! Be scared or something!” Snufkin protested.
The Joxter could only laugh harder. “Heheh, sorry boy-o, maybe I’ll just perish under your vicious attacks,” He suggested.
Snufkin grinned and nodded. “Yeah!” His brown eyes sparkled as he continued poking his dad’s cheek.
“Okay! You’re dead now!” The little Mumrik announced.
The Joxter flopped his head back and closed his eyes, trying not to smile.
Snufkin got off his father’s chest and moved beside his head, pulling away his hat and placing it on his own much too small head.
“From those gone come the spoils of the hunt!” Snufkin giggled, holding up the hat a bit so he could see.
The Joxter remained on the ground, unmoving from his spot.
“Okay dad, let’s keep going now!” Snufkin said.
The Joxter stayed still.
Snufkin pouted. “Daaad!! You’re not really dead!”
The Joxter couldn’t help but grin now, but his eyes remained shut. “I don’t know Snufkin, those attacks were pretty powerful, I think I’m done for.”
Snufkin stomped a foot. “Stop being so silly! I want to go catch something for real now!”
The Joxter hummed. “Maybe if you returned my hat? I’m not sure what I’d do without it.”
Snufkin stuck out his tongue but did as asked and placed the big red hat back over the Joxter’s face.
The Joxter sprung up and immediately scooped up his son. “Hunting it is then!” he grinned.
“Though we need to find a quieter spot, everything around here is already terrified of such a skilled hunter being around.”
Snufkin giggled and kicked his feet happily. “Okay!”
The Joxter lifted Snufkin up and set him on his shoulders before continuing off deeper into the forest.
“What do you think you want to catch, kiddo?”
Snufkin thought about it for a bit. “Squirrel hopefully.”
When they were far enough away, Joxter set Snufkin back down and placed their bag against a tree along with his hat.
Snufkin was already crouched and ready by time his father made his way over.
“Do you remember the best way to stalk?” The Joxter whispered, dropping into a crouch beside him.
Snufkin nodded. “Focus my weight so my paws aren’t noisy,” he replied, moving forward silently.
He sniffed the air. Snufkin knew his scenting skills weren’t as good as his dad’s, nor would they ever be since he was a half Mymble. Thankfully they were still good enough to make him an effective enough hunter and he caught the scent of a squirrel not too far off.
The Joxter went off in the opposite direction, giving his son a wide berth to hunt for himself, but ready to strike from the shadow of a tree if the prey escaped toward him.
Snufkin crept his way further into the forest, following the scent trail. He hoped it was a big squirrel and he could make his dad proud by catching it all on his own.
With his senses keen and his paws quiet, Snufkin was giddy, ready to satisfy his Mumrik nature through the thrill of the hunt and the promise of a good meal.