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For the first time in years, Snufkin didn’t want to go south. He knew he had to. It was not so much a choice, as a feeling calling him down to the warmer weather. His feet would naturally guide him away from MoominValley until the spring time came around and called for his return. It was as natural to him as a moomin hibernating. It was just a natural part of life and Snufkin wasn’t about to argue that.
It always hurt to leave Moomin alone during the winter months, especially when they began to date, but Snufkin always promised his return and nothing made him happier than to play his harmonica to wake the sleeping troll. The light in Moomin’s eyes as he looked out the window would always be Snufkin’s favorite part. He loved seeing Moomin run down the thawing lawn and right into his arms, shouting Snufkin’s name the whole way there.
Every year it was hard to leave Moomin, but this year was not like the other years. Moomin was no longer just a friend or a loved one, but Snufkin’s betrothed. Snufkin had finally gotten the courage to ask him after a very nervous conversation with Moominmama and papa. It was the happiest day of both of their lives and of course Moomin insisted they be married at once. Yet there was so much work to do, as Snufkin pointed out. They had to plan the day, how and where, and most importantly where they would go after. It was decided that once Snufkin returned this year in the spring, the two would be married in the summer once enough preparation had been done.
Snufkin had stood on the bridge, holding Moomin’s paws as the first flakes of snow began to fall. Moomin’s paws only held on tighter as his baby blue eyes looked down at his feet. Snufkin could see the tears welling in his eyes as the troll tried to hold them back.
“It’s alright, my dove,” Snufkin said. “I’ll return in the spring as I always do.”
“But..But why do you have to go now?” Moomin looked up letting the tears slip.
“You know as well as I do it’s what a mumrik does, as a moomin sleeps. Like the birds, I go south to warmer climates.” Snufkin wiped the tears from Moomin’s eyes and kissed his nose.
“But what if something happens to you, Snufkin?” Moomin fretted.
“Has anything happened before?”
“No, but, but it could! Something could happen!”
Snufkin smiled lovingly at him. “I have an idea. While I cannot stay, a part of me will.”
Snufkin untied his yellow scarf and wrapped it around Moomin’s neck. Moomin lifted his head obediently as Snufkin tied it in the front.
“There now. When you feel sad and miss me, you now will have a piece of me to look at. Every time you see it, just remember how much I love you. You sleep tight, warm and safe, and I will be there in your dreams. When you open your eyes, I’ll be there again. You see? We’ll never be apart.” Snufkin kissed Moomin’s nose again. Moomin hugged him tightly, burying his face into Snufkin’s neck.
That had been almost a month ago and they were now in the dead of winter. At least, MoominValley would be in the dead of winter. Snufkin sighed and put another log on the fire. He stretched his toes in front of the blaze, warming the pads on his paws. Dinner would be ready soon, then he could eat and go to bed. He still had far to walk and was nowhere near the end of his journey, but Snufkin knew his journey was soon coming to an end. He could feel it in his tail.
Snufkin leaned forward, hugging his knees and resting his chin on the tops of them. There was much to do on the return and it was all he thought of during his night time fire. Surely they would have to build a house, right? Snufkin didn’t know much about house building, but Moomin seemed to. Well, enough to get by. What Snufkin was skilled at was loving a moomin. Oh, to love a moomin. It was one of the hardest challenges one could face, but the return was greater than any of life’s joys.
A moomin is very polite, very kind. They carry their tails and their heads high. A moomin is the peak of society, even if they are outnumbered species wise by the Hemulins. A moomin may not be strict time keepers or scientists like a Hemulin, but a moomin never lost their sense of adventure even if their adventures seemed so mundane to those who looked on. A moomin could find great tales in a trip to the beach, or a simple mountain hike. It is hard to love a moomin, not because you cannot love them, but because you cannot stop loving them.
A moomin wears their heart on their sleeve, but they will never make you feel guilt for their harm. They will console you for your own misdeeds, insisting you are still a good soul. You cannot help but fall for their sweet smiles. It was hard when you were someone like Snufkin to love a moomin. Snufkin was bound to roam and he always seemed to be outside of the conversation naturally. He was on the edge of society, almost as if casted out due to his quiet nature.
Snufkin had been afraid to love Moomin. He had been terrified that his quiet nature would not appeal to Moomin, despite the idea of opposites attracting. When Snufkin finally gave in to his feelings and found Moomin shared them, it was the greatest thing to ever happen to him. Moomin respected his need for space and for quiet and was content with silent snuggles by a fire pit. In return, Snufkin would go on trips with Moomin and the others. He would have small adventures, and while the others would find their own treasure of value, Snufkin’s treasure was the found family. He finally felt as if he belonged somewhere. He finally felt wanted.
It was why Snufkin could never stop returning to MoominValley after his first year staying there. Now, he was connecting himself to someone for the first time in a real permanent and intimate way, and Snufkin wasn’t scared. If anything, he was excited for the summer time. He had already made up his mind. When he married Moomin, they would build a house in MoominValley together and Snufkin would settle down. No longer would he travel to the south. There would be no point anymore. He would have reached the end of his journey.
Snufkin could see it now as he looked back on his life. He had always aimlessly wandered the world, but his path would always lead back to Moomintroll no matter how lost he seemed to get himself. Like the sun rises in the east, or a river leading to the ocean, Snufkin’s path was an indisputable fact of mother nature.
Snufkin would always return to Moomintroll.