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It was another perfectly sunny day in Moominvalley. Across the river from the brightly colored Moominhouse, Snufkin had emerged from his tent and began to plan his day, as much as the vagabond plans anything anyway. He briefly scanned the House for an incoming Moomin, thinking of asking him to go on a hike, but was surprised to find that he seemed to have the morning to himself. He certainly wasn’t sad for this, he and Moomin spent so much time together after all, and his friend had grown to understand that others need their space from time to time. Snufkin had changed over time too, spending more time with others in the valley, even if Moomin wasn’t present. Just the other day he had helped a desperate Sniff find a gold coin he had dropped in the woods, normally he would have deflected the plead for help towards Moomin, but they had teased poor Sniff especially hard on their previous outing, and Snufkin felt a favor was due. And he had grown even closer with Moomin, confiding in him feelings and insecurities that he would never dare to tell others. He didn’t like to be vulnerable, but getting problems off his chest was a luxury he could never have imagined before fate and That Comet brought them together.
Snufkin accepted that the valley was a home to him now, he no longer left on his travels anxious about if he would return next spring and the pain it would cause Moomin, and admittedly himself, to never see each-other again. Thinking about that winter many years ago left a pain in his heart, when he had given Moomin his most treasured possession and had nearly decided to never return. But those uncertain days were long gone, and while Snufkin certainly needed time to himself, he would always return to his spot across the bridge from Moominhouse. He had even gone so far as to build several handy amenities such as a small icebox tucked away beside the tree he tied his tent to, with Moomin’s help and some instructions from Moominpappa on how to fashion insulation out of some old tin cans, a rare sight in the usually pristine valley.
While he sat reflecting on all this, Moomin had indeed noticed his friend was awake, peeking from his window and returning to sit on his bed. He felt curiously lethargic today, despite the beautiful weather, and that only made him cross. He furrowed his brows in an attempt to pout, while resisting the urge to fall back to sleep. He heard a small plink against his window, and another a few seconds later. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he opened the window, surprised to see Snufkin below, recoiling from tossing a third pebble which bounced effortlessly off Moomin’s fuzzy hide.
“It’s a bit bright out for throwing rocks Snufkin, somebody might think you were vandalizing Moominhouse!” He called as he inspected where the projectile had connected.
“I am, and I’m taking you as a hostage, I can’t let the authorities get to me!” he called back. Moomin chuckled as he climbed out the window towards the rope ladder, taking the usual shortcut reserved for when his special friend visits.
“I was going on a walk wherever my feet might carry me today, and wondered if you might want to come along? The rain yesterday is good for the fish, I can almost guarantee that we’d catch some lunch. Almost.” Snufkin winked as his friend hopped down from the balcony.
“Oh I would love to, Snuf! Shall I pack something in case we do go hungry?”
“For yourself perhaps, I’ll be fine. Meet you at the tent when you’re ready.” Snufkin said as he left Moomin to let his parents know he would be out.
Some time later, the two friends had made a considerable distance off towards the Lonely Mountains, a common landmark for their travels being one of the highest peaks in the valley. They began climbing it’s rugged base, a common place to meet tourists as they descend the rough path, and wandered about until they came upon a small flat clearing beside a flowing river. Snufkin sighed deeply as he approached the center and crouched down, running his hand over a distinct hole carved in the solid ground.
“This is where we first met, isn’t it Snufkin?” Moomin asked following behind, remembering the tent and campfire here that he would come to see so many times again in his life.
“I remember hearing a strange sound and calling Sniff and My back to help search for it. I had never heard harmonica before, I thought perhaps there may have been some rare bird!”
“And I suppose you weren’t wrong about that, my friend. Silly old bird that I was, playing his song alone on a mountain. If I recall, after hearing you strangers call out, I emerged simply to bum some coffee off you!” Snufkin laughed, but kept his face turned as he began to feel weepy.
“We didn’t mind, I had enjoyed hearing your song, and I was surprised to find such an interesting character hidden away out here. Are you alright, Snufkin? You’re upset about something, I can tell.” Moomin placed a paw on his friend’s shoulder, surprised at how quickly his mood had shifted.
“Do you ever think back Moomin, about what would have happened if we hadn’t crossed paths that day? If you had taken a different route up the mountain, or decided not to search for my sound, or if I had set up camp anywhere else, where would we be today? It chills me to think about it. We’ve saved eachother so many times in our adventures, I fear our lives may have been cut short if not for our friendship.” Snufkin sighed as he sat down on the dirt, holding his friend’s paw for comfort.
“Oh Snufkin, you’re the one who always does the saving, what with tricking spirits and pirates, when have I ever rescued you?” Moomin watched his friend look back at him with sad eyes and understood after a moment what he had meant. He extended his arms to offer a hug, which Snufkin accepted.
Depression was a common struggle for the mumrik, though he did his utmost to hide it from others. Moomin could barely believe it when his friend had first told him, that someone as stoic and carefree as Snufkin could be hiding such pain. His need to travel only made things worse, as he often found himself completely alone when he needed friends most. Moomin had his own struggles, his need for attention and fear of being rejected. He certainly felt sorry for his friend, but knew that he couldn’t quite fully understand how deep and dark his feelings could take him. At first he was mad that Snufkin would ever not seek help in his times of need, but rather than lecture him Moomin decided to keep an eye on his friend when he could, giving him his needed space but making sure to be keen on any signals he may need someone close by. He had learned a few things to watch for over the years, avoiding eye contact, preferring certain songs on his harmonica, a small pause before turning people away. It went against his effort to give Snufkin as much space as he could, which conflicted Moomin terribly, but he did the best he could.
“Moomin I want you to know that I appreciate all you do for me as a friend. I couldn’t ask for a kinder soul in the world.” Snufkin said calmly as he tried to right himself, taking deep breaths.
“Of course Snufkin, as do I. You mean the world to me.” Moomin replied, and nuzzled the smallest of Moomin kisses on his friend’s cheek before turning around much too quickly.
“S-Shall we begin fishing then? It must be long past lunchtime, perhaps the fish here will remember you?” Moomin’s voice wobbled slightly, as his friend put a hand to his cheek and nodded.