Chapter Text
Beyond the forest and mountains on the horizon, the sun rose, bringing daytime with it. Moomin squinted when the light hit his face, waking him up. At first, he turned over in hopes of getting extra rest. But when the sunlight lit up his whole room, he couldn’t ignore it any longer. He sat up, stretched, and made his way over to his wardrobe so he could get dressed for the day.
As Moomin pulled his shirt on, he got a glance out the window. The late summer sun was already bright, but it was early enough that the heat hadn’t kicked in yet. It was the perfect time to get started on his work around the farm; then, when the sun began to beat down on him, he could take a break, have some lunch, perhaps go for a swim.
Leaving his room, Moomin went to the bathroom across the hall to freshen up. He brushed his teeth, washed his face, and tidied his messy near-white hair. He almost left before remembering to put on some sunscreen. With a complexion like his, it was crucial—otherwise he’d spend his evening sitting stiff as a board, peeling off his own skin. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Trotting downstairs, he saw that his mother was already cooking breakfast. He greeted her with a side-hug. “Morning, Mamma. Pappa’s still asleep, huh?”
“Good morning, darling. You know he won’t wake up until he smells food.” She chuckled.
Moomin’s Mamma was a bit old for a mother—even though her son was almost 19. Moomin looked just like her. They had the same platinum blond hair, but hers was longer, neater, and not as curly as his. Whenever he looked close, he thought he could see strands of white, but it was hard to spot when her hair was so light already. Her eyes were a pale color, and tended to switch between blue, green, and grey; like most days, they were currently green, unlike Moomin’s baby blue eyes. Besides that and her presence of smile lines and lack of moles, they had the exact same face.
Moomin peered over at the pan she was cooking in. “Pancakes?”
Mamma nodded. “Plain, blueberry, and chocolate.”
“You don’t have to make all three kinds, Mamma. Your pancakes are so delicious we’d eat them all with no butter or syrup or anything.”
“Why wouldn’t I make what you prefer if it’s no trouble? Just make sure to eat some fruit while you’re having all that chocolate.”
“I know, Mamma.” He leaned towards her so she could give him a peck on the cheek before he went and sat at the dining table. He went on his phone while he waited for breakfast to be ready. The Moomins’ farm—and the entirety of Spring Valley, for that matter—was a little far out, but the reception was pretty good.
Soon enough, the smell of fresh pancakes began wafting through the house, leading his father to appear out of thin air. Moomin and his Pappa looked far less similar than him and his Mamma. Pappa had more of a square face as opposed to Moomin’s round jawline. He was also blond, but his hair was a tad darker; unlike his wife and son, nobody would be mistaking it for white and asking if it was dyed. He also wasn’t as pale as the two of them. He overall looked more grizzly and tired, and as a result, older relative to his age. His well-maintained beard certainly didn’t make him look any younger. As for their similarities, they both had wavy hair. Pappa kept his too short for the curl pattern to show up, but he had plenty of pictures from when he was a teen in the 80s and had a long, curly mullet. The two of them also had moles; Moomin didn’t have as many, but there were still quite a few. Other than that, though, they looked fairly different.
As Pappa joined Moomin at the table, Mamma began setting out plates; blueberry pancakes for herself, plain pancakes for Pappa, chocolate chip pancakes for Moomintroll, and eggs and fruit for everyone. Once the chilled orange juice, hot tea and freshly-made coffee were set out, Mamma sat down with her family and they began eating. Breakfast time at the Moomins’ house was a great start to the day for anyone involved. They believed that breakfast was the most important meal of the day, so a hearty meal was essential. And there’s nothing like sitting down for a delicious meal with a lovely family, where one feels right at home.
After eating, Moomin placed his dishes in the sink and stood at the back door, balancing on one foot as he put on his shoes. Mamma passed him by as she was clearing the table. “Going to do your chores, hun?”
He nodded. “I’m gonna get started while it’s not too hot.”
“Would you mind picking up the trash on your way out? I looked outside earlier and it was knocked over. I think something came from the forest looking for food!” She placed a stack of plates next to the sink and put on some dishwashing gloves. “You may want to check on the chickens, in case it’s a fox. Make sure the coop is secure, will you?”
“Will do.” He tied the last of his laces and stood. “I’ll be back in time for lunch!”
Mamma waved him goodbye with a sudsy glove as he shut the door.
Moomin went on to perform his usual daily routine. He spent the rest of the morning taking care of all the farm’s animals; the chickens, the goats, and the cows. The crops were more of his mother’s responsibility. By the time he was done caring for them all, it was time for lunch. He spent the hottest portion of the day indoors, taking care of household chores after he ate lunch. Mamma told him he didn’t have to, and that he could relax after doing all that farmwork all day, but he preferred to help when he could.
He went back out when the sun was lower in the sky and it was cool enough to be outside. It was about time to get all the animals prepared for the night. He got the chickens back in their coop, herded all the goats, and as the sun began to set, he made his way to the barn to put the cows away and clean up after them.
Moomin led the two cows into the barn. They milled about inside while Moomin picked up a rake and began cleaning their stalls.
“I wonder what kind of animal it might be. It could be a fox, or even a wolf,” he thought out loud. “We’re right next to the woods, but it’s still strange for anything to come this far out. You should stay on your guard, Hilda. ”
He turned to the brown-and-white cow. She only stared back at him, but Moomin nodded as if she’d said something very important.
“I know, I know. You’d do anything to protect Olga. I trust you.”
Olga, the black and white cow, didn’t seem to be paying attention at all. She was busy sniffing and poking around the barn, looking for something. Moomin chuckled.
“You two must still be hungry, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll be done soon.”
Once the stalls were all clean, Moomin dropped the rake, had them shuffle into their stalls and gave them some feed. Just as he was about to leave, he heard a sound. He stopped in his tracks.
A few moments later, another scuttling sound came from somewhere in the barn.
“The animal… it’s here,” Moomin said to himself. “Up in the hayloft.”
Just as he mentioned the hayloft, the shuffling noises slowed to a stop.
“Stay calm, you two.” He glances at Hilda and Olga, who haven’t noticed a thing. “And don’t make any sudden movements.” He bent down and picked up one of the cows’ brushes. Then he slowly stepped backwards, towards the barn door. “I don’t wanna scare you two, but I need to get it out of here… So I’ll throw this up there to startle it, and once it runs outside, I’ll go and catch it. Sounds like a plan, right ladies?” When he got no response, he continued. “Alright. Three… two… o- agh!”
Not looking where he was walking, Moomin slipped on the rake he’d carelessly left on the floor. As he landed face-first on the hay-covered floor, he heard the animal run down from the hayloft. But when he whipped his head up and looked around for it, all he caught was the blur of a tail escaping through the door.
He hastily stood and brushed himself off, running for the door. “No, wait!”
But it was no use. He hadn’t been fast enough, and now the animal was gone. And now that the sun had set, it would soon be too dark out to go looking for it.
Moomin sighed as he stepped back into the barn. “Sorry for startling you for nothing, girls. It got away.”
He went to comfort the slightly frazzled cows—though he wasn’t so happy himself—before locking them up for the night and heading back to the house.
Later, Moomin recounted his run-in with the animal over dinner with his parents. His father suggested he set out some harmless traps. Then they could find out what kind of animal was causing them trouble. And that, he did. It was less than ideal to be outside on a warm summer night, not having fun, but knelt in the dirt to set up traps in their massive yard—if one could even call it a yard. It was that big. He was grateful when he could go back inside and take a nice, cool shower to wash the dirt off. He thought he could rest easy, knowing that this potential issue was nipped in the bud.
Breakfast the next morning was not as fun as the previous day.
Moomin sat down at the table, staring in awe at the three serving plates fully packed with scones. He picked one up and put it on his plate with the rest of his breakfast.
“Mamma, are you feeling alright? I think you might be stress-baking again.”
The woman sighed and sat down as she served their morning tea and coffee. “I just might be. I think that animal from yesterday has gotten into my garden.”
“You’ve already checked?”
She nodded. “I was planning to make a vegetable medley and a fruit platter for the late-summer potluck, but it appears I’ve been robbed of blackberries, a cucumber, and even one of my last mini watermelons.”
Pappa made a thoughtful sound as he drank some coffee. “How is it that you can notice something so small?”
“I don’t know if you’ve seen the farm I own, dear, but I take my gardening very seriously. If I can’t make enough food for my share of the potluck, I may have to bake something instead. That wouldn’t be ideal; I was hoping to make something hearty and healthy for the start of autumn.”
It saddened Moomin to see his Mamma disappointed at anything. So he scarfed down his breakfast—including two scones—and stood.
Moomin moved to the hallway, trying not to topple over as he put on his sneakers. “I’ll go check the traps and see if they got anything overnight. I can stake out the garden, if you’d like.”
Mamma shook her head. “I appreciate the offer, but that won’t be necessary. I have a back-up plan, in case I need it. You can focus on finding that animal.”
“Will do, Mamma!” Tying off his shoe, he ran out the door.
Mamma called out after him. “Be careful if you find it, Moomintroll!”
Despite what his mother said, Moomin decided to stake out the barn for a few hours that afternoon.
There was nothing in any of the traps, and all of the farm animals were fine—nothing had attacked them. Come to think of it, he thought, this whole situation is pretty strange. The trash got knocked over, but it didn’t hunt the animals for food. What kind of fox or wolf or whatever it is goes to a garden looking for something to eat? Predators don’t eat fruits and veggies. Not to mention it avoided all the traps, and was up in the hayloft but ignored the cows… Something’s off here.
Moomin continued to ponder it as he sat outside the barn. He watched the cows graze, the trees rustling in the breeze, and eventually, he watched the shadow the mountains cast over his big, blue house as sunset arrived yet again.
When it was time, Moomin got up and performed his evening routine. The chickens, goats, and cows all got taken care of. Maybe it just ran away, now that we’ve run into it, Moomin thought to himself.
Just as he started closing the barn doors, he heard something snap. Moomin whipped his head in the direction of the sound. One of the traps! Not a moment later, he heard someone swear.
What on earth??
Leaving the barn door ajar, Moomin rushed over to where he’d laid the trap. Has someone been caught? Who could it be? People come over unannounced all the time, but they’re usually at the front door, not sneaking around the property.
Moomin turned the corner to the back of the barn. He was met with a young guy—probably around his age—with both his ankles tied in the trap. It was dark enough now that Moomin couldn’t see what he looked like in detail; only that he was scrawny and had messy ginger hair. The boy froze upon seeing him, staring up at him with wide eyes. When Moomin took a step closer, he snapped out of it, and scrambled to get away, but the trap stopped him.
“Hey, hey, wait!” Moomin knelt down in the grass, not caring if it stained his knees. He tried to seem as non-threatening as possible (as though that would be difficult for him). “Don’t struggle, it’ll only get tighter.”
The guy seemed hesitant, but after a moment, he sat still. Moomin moved closer. The guy leaned away from him, but at least he didn’t try to run off again.
“I’m just gonna take this off, okay?” With slow movements and gentle hands, Moomin began to undo the trap. It was just a wire, after all. “My name’s Moomintroll, but you can call me Moomin. What’s your name?” The trap came undone.
Instead of answering, the other boy just stared at him. After a few moments—maybe deciding Moomin really was being nice—he responded. “Snufkin.”
“Well, Snufkin.” Moomin stood, dusting the grass off his knees. He held out a hand to help him up. “Mind telling me what you’re doing around here? If you need something, you could just come to our door. We’ll answer. Actually!” Snufkin didn’t even get a chance to respond with the way Moomin chattered. “Have you seen any wolves or foxes around here? Something’s been going through our trash and stealing from our garden and we’re trying to catch it.”
Snufkin stood without taking Moomin’s hand. He looked at the wall, then the trees, then the ground—anywhere but Moomin’s eyes. “…That would be me.”
Moomin’s eyes widened. “Oh, I see. Well, if you’re hungry, feel free to ask us for a meal. We love having guests over. But if you’d rather eat and be on your way, we’ll respect that.”
Snufkin tilted his head. “You would do that?”
“Of course! Everyone needs to eat. And if we can help, why wouldn’t we?”
Snufkin seemed to consider it for a moment, but he shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine. I’ll get out of your hair. Thanks for letting me out of the trap.” He turned to walk away.
“Wait! Aren’t you hungry? You could stay for dinner. It’s the least we could do. There might be time for Mamma to make you an extra plate.”
Snufkin made a face. Or at least, Moomin thought he did. It was hard to tell in the dark. “I’d rather not meet her. If it’s no trouble, I’ll eat and be on my way.”
Moomin found that odd. Why would someone wandering around scavenging for food not want to eat a freshly cooked meal in a warm and cozy house? He remembered what Mamma told him: to respect every person he meets, even if their choices are strange. At least, until they start to disrespect him. But Snufkin didn’t seem mean like that; he just seemed sort of scared. “That’s alright. I’ll ask her to make a plate and I’ll bring it outside.”
“Um…” Snufkin started, but it took him a second to get his words out. “Can you not tell them I’m here?”
Moomin raised an eyebrow. “Can I ask why?”
“They might want to meet me.”
“So you want me to sneak behind Mamma’s back to get you food, just so you don’t have to meet them, so that you can just eat and leave?”
Snufkin turned away again. “If it’s like that, I’ll just go. I don’t mean to be any trouble.”
“Wait, that came out wrong. You can stay.” Moomin sighed. “I’ll have to have dinner first, but I’ll get you something to eat. And I won’t tell anyone a thing, promise.”
“…I’ll take your word for it.”
“Great! I’ll meet you in an hour?”
Snufkin nodded. Giving a polite smile, Moomin waved as he walked away. He watched Snufkin’s ginger hair fade into the shadows of the night before turning back to his house.
“Find anything, son?”
Moomin looked up from his dinner plate at his dad. “What was that?”
“In the traps. Did you find the pest?”
“Oh, uh, no. I think I properly scared it away last night.”
“I hope it’s run off back to its home,” Mamma said. “We won’t have to worry about the animals or the crops as much as I thought.”
“I’m gonna pick up the traps, too.” Moomin ate a bite of roast chicken between breaths. “One of them, uh… caught a harmless little guy today. I don’t see any point in putting other animals in danger trying to catch this thing. Especially when it’s already gone.”
Mamma nodded in agreement, but Pappa shook his head. “I’d still keep an eye out. Scaring it once won’t always rid you of a pest. Especially such a strange one. What kind of wolf chooses blackberries over chickens?”
Moomin shrugged. “I dunno, but it seems to have disappeared to me.”
After dinner, Moomin offered to wash the dishes. He liked doing favors for his parents—Mamma sure appreciated it. But it also meant he would get the kitchen to himself while his parents relaxed for the evening. Once the dishes were done, he took out a plastic container and packed some chicken, mashed potatoes, and salad. He made sure to include a fork. He stepped toward the door, but stopped himself. Turning back to the kitchen, he grabbed a glass bottle of home-made juice from the fridge. While he had it open, he bagged up some of those scones from that morning and put them in his pockets. He checked to make sure nobody was around before he quietly left out the back door.
If it had been a cooler night, the warm container in Moomin’s hands would be comforting. But he liked warm summer nights, despite the risk of mosquito bites. It was strangely relieving to be able to just walk outside, no jacket or anything.
He almost went around the back of the barn to look for Snufkin. But when he saw a light coming from inside the building, he had a good guess where he might find him.
The door creaked as it opened and Moomin shuffled inside. He made sure to close it all the way so his parents wouldn’t spot the light so easily. He looked up to find the source was up in the hayloft. Holding the food and drink in one arm, Moomin climbed up the sturdy ladder. He peeked over the edge in an attempt not to startle his new acquaintance, but the ginger was already looking his way. Moomin nodded politely.
“Snufkin.”
“Moomintroll.”
Moomin got comfortable sitting up in the loft and handed Snufkin his food. “A deal’s a deal.”
Snufkin wasted no time on eating it. It almost made Moomin chuckle, but he held it back. The two of them sat there with a camping lantern lighting up the space between them. Now that they weren’t in the dark, Moomin could see Snufkin’s face. His hair was reddish and messy indeed; and sort of long, too. He certainly hadn’t gotten a haircut in ages. His hair covered his eyes; as he ate his food, he kept having to brush his fringe away. Moomin was certain they were similar in age. Snufkin may have been young, but he looked tired; dark circles hung below his brown eyes. He had tan skin with freckles decorating what looked like every inch of it. They covered his face, his neck, even his hands. He had such wiry hands, but they were surprisingly big for how small his frame was.
Snufkin completely cleaned his plate. And when he was done, he gulped down his drink like he hadn’t hydrated in weeks. Moomin wondered if he should’ve brought some water instead.
Snufkin wiped his mouth with his dirty hoodie sleeve. He handed the empty container and bottle back to Moomin. “Thanks.”
Moomin shook his head. “It’s no problem. Oh! I almost forgot.”
He reached into his pockets and pulled out all the wrapped-up scones he managed to fit. Snufkin gave him a questioning look, and he chuckled.
“Mamma made a few too many of these this morning. They should go to someone who needs them.”
Snufkin looked down, taking one of the scones. He unwrapped it, sniffed it, and took a bite. “It’s good,” he said mid-chew.
“She makes the best desserts.” Moomin dug into one of the many scones—he wanted to have one for himself. He looked around and spotted what must have been Snufkin’s bag. It was an old worn-down hiking backpack that looked half-full. It was then that he noticed Snufkin’s clothes. He was wearing a pair of jeans that looked like they would disintegrate if he touched them, ratty old sneakers, a t-shirt full of holes on the edges and a dirty hoodie which, if Moomin looked hard enough, he might have guessed used to be green. A dirty old yellow cap sat on the floor next to him.
Moomin looked back up at Snufkin. He hoped he hadn’t noticed his staring, but Snufkin seemed to be busy enjoying that scone.
“So…” Moomin started. “What are you doing here? You’re not from around here, I would’ve seen you before.”
Snufkin shrugs. “Looking for food.”
That’s not a real answer. Moomin continued. “Do you have a home?”
“You think I’d be here if I did?”
“Do you have a family?”
“...”
Snufkin silently continued eating his scone.
Moomin thought for a moment, trying to think of a question that wouldn’t upset him but would still be informative. “When was the last time you ate real food?”
“Some months.”
“Where are you from?”
“Far away.”
“How far?”
“Not terribly.”
“You don’t say much, do you?”
“And you say a lot.”
Alright, that’s fair, Moomin thought. “I’ll stop asking, if you want me to.”
“I don’t mind.”
It seemed like you minded.
“I can ask you some questions,” Snufkin said.
Moomin shrugged. “Okay.”
Snufkin thought for a moment. “‘S this your farm?”
“Yeah. Family-owned on my mother’s side.”
“For how long?”
“My great-grandmother and her friends started it.”
Snufkin hummed, swallowing the last bite of his scone. He licked the crumbs off his fingers.
“So, um…” Moomin wanted to ask a question, but he wasn’t sure if it was too sensitive. “You don’t have to answer this, but why were you going through our trash? You could’ve just picked from the garden.”
Snufkin leaned back against the wall. “Most people throw away things that are perfectly useful. Including food. You’d be surprised how many full plates you can find looking in people’s trash. That food shouldn’t go to waste, and I’m hungry.”
“Are you from a city or something?”
“I’ve been to cities.”
“Then what are you doing out here in the valley?”
“I was heading for a busier town, but it’s further than I thought.” Snufkin picked up a piece of hay and fiddled with it. “It’s easy to lay low in a city, if you know where to hide. But it’s hard in a little town in the countryside. Everyone knows everyone, so new faces stand out. It’s harder to fade to the background. There aren’t as many hiding places. And I like camping, but living in the woods is even more dangerous than you’d think. Especially when you don’t have money for proper supplies.”
Moomin stared at him with wide eyes. Snufkin had been so quiet thus far, so he didn’t think he could talk for so long. “So you’re really homeless, huh?”
“I prefer the term ‘vagabond’, but yeah.” Snufkin yawned, revealing some misaligned teeth.
Moomin took a moment to think. “Snufkin?”
The ginger looked at him.
“Me and my parents, we take in people who need a place to stay all the time. Some of our closest family friends arrived in this town with no home and no money, and we helped them get back on their feet. We could do the same for you.”
Snufkin didn’t respond. He just looked at him, then looked down at his lap.
“If you only want somewhere to live, we have plenty of rooms. But if you want a job, too, we can give you work on the farm. If you want to lay around the house all day and join us for dinner, you can. But if you’d prefer to stay out all day and only want a place to sleep, that’s okay, too. Assuming you accept, that is. It’s up to you.”
For a few minutes longer, Snufkin was quiet. Moomin was afraid to push him further, so he didn’t say any more. He felt his throat tighten over time; the silence made him nervous. When Snufkin looked back at him, Moomin almost flinched.
“Don’t you think it’s risky to invite random strangers to live with you?”
Moomin felt himself relax, despite not getting an answer. “I don’t think you’re dangerous.”
“I could be dangerous. You don’t know me.”
“Dangerous people don’t say they’re dangerous. Plus, you don’t look any older than me. So what’s the worst you could do?”
“How old are you?”
“I’m 18, but I turn 19 in a couple months.”
For the first time Moomin had seen, Snufkin cracked a smile. “I’m a year older than you. You’re just a kid, you should really be more careful of adults. Stranger danger and whatever.”
Moomin chuckled. “Hey, I’m not a kid! And you’re not an adult. We’re basically the same age.”
“If you’re not a kid, and I’m not an adult, but we’re the same age, what does that make us?”
“Teenagers?”
“Isn’t 19 a little old for a teenager?”
“You could say the same about a 13-year-old being too young, but they’re still technically teenagers.”
“Fair enough.” Snufkin reclined against some hay. “I think of us more as baby adults.”
“Baby adults?” Moomin asked, barely containing a laugh.
“Yeah. Technically ,” he mimicked the way Moomin said the word, “our brains are adult brains. But we don’t really know what we’re doing. Baby adults.”
“I’m sure some of us know what we’re doing.”
“You’d be surprised, Moomintroll.”
Snufkin was still smiling. There was something Moomin liked about his smile.
He took out his phone and glanced at the time. It was getting late. If he didn’t start getting ready for bed, it’d be hard to wake up in the morning.
“I should get going,” Moomin said. Snufkin leaned up to look at him. Moomin picked up the remains of the food and snacks he brought. “…Will you at least think about my offer? I swear my parents are really nice. They’ll give you as much privacy as you need.”
Snufkin fidgeted with more hay as he thought it over. “…I’ll consider it.”
Moomin’s eyes lit up. “Promise?”
Snufkin sighed, but he didn’t sound annoyed. He almost sounded endeared. “Promise.”
Moomin smiled brightly. “Thanks, Snufkin.”
He descended the ladder and made his way to the barn doors. He stopped before opening them and looked up at the hayloft. “Snufkin?”
A head of scruffy ginger hair poked out from behind the railing. “Yeah?”
“Can I ask another favor?”
He shrugged. “Depends.”
“Will you stay until tomorrow morning? I can bring you breakfast. It’ll feel unfair if I let you go hungry again. I mean… assuming you don’t have plans to go anywhere.”
Snufkin shook his head. “Nah, not really. I’ll stay. ‘S long as I don’t get caught.”
“By anyone besides me, you mean?”
“Yeah, besides you.”
“Promise to stay?”
Moomin stood below Snufkin and held his pinky finger up high. He was pretty tall, so if Snufkin reached down, he might be able to reach. Snufkin seemed to hesitate, but after a few quiet moments, he bent over the wooden rail and reached his arm down to link their fingers together. “Promise.”
“Cool!” A smile still on his face, Moomin opened the barn door and stepped out. Before closing it, he whispered. “Goodnight, Snufkin.”
The redhead nodded at him. “Night, Moomin.”
The barn doors shut, and Moomin walked through the warm summer night air to get back home.