Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a fine October day when Moominmamma went out to water the pumpkin patch. Much of the Valley had been plagued by dreary Autumn weather since the end of August, and Snufkin had already left south just as he and Moomintroll arranged for every year. However, with the relatively recent arrival of the little Mymble known as My the house wouldn't be able to match the peacefulness of the yellowed landscape.

She had a habit of playing pranks and mean games with the other children without their knowledge, and one particular child who hasn't taken it very kindly was Sniff, who has grown paranoid of even the tea kettles in the kitchen whenever he visits for a snack. Much of her teasing, startling and morbid exaggerations were for him to take a good chunk of the brunt of, as she especially enjoyed his more skittish and naive tendencies more than how the others glowered at her and called her name in a most disapproving way. It seemed whatever Sniff provided was novel to her. Any word of disciplinary action Moominmamma tried to give, as serious as they may sound, were not effective against the Little My who was never raised with a slap on the wrist all her life, so she finds just about everything amusing and moves on as if she hadn't heard a word, much to everyone's dismay.

It was troublesome to say the least, but it seems this time she's decided that attempting to tie someone over a fire had grown boring.

Moominmamma moved a leaf aside for a regular inspection of the pumpkins. They seem to be growing nicely, and soon ready to be plucked out for some nice pumpkin mash, or soup, or perhaps even pie. Such thoughts occupied Moominmamma as she watered the patch before she overheard the worried prattles of a Gaffsie and her daughter passing by, lugging around all matters of fabric and other sewing materials.

"What's this about a festival?" Moominmamma couldn't help but ask.

Gaffsie stared at her with horror, "You mean to say you don't know about the Mask Festival?"

"No, I'm sorry," she answered, "If you would be so kind as to explain…"

"The Mask Festival is tomorrow!" cried Gaffsie's daughter, wildly waving a paw and struggling to keep her items in the other, "And you don't even have a costume for it!? You must be joking!"

"One must have a costume for this festival," Moominmamma said with interest, "What sort?"

"Scary! Terrifying! Horrifying!" exclaimed Gaffise's daughter with big gestures and grabbed her mother by the arm. "And we haven't any time to waste! Everybody should be in the eastern forest by sundown! Goodbye!" she said before dragging her mother behind in a rush, who barely managed to add in her own farewell before they continued their discussion about the festival.

Moominmamma stared at the pair of Gaffises and lowered her brow. "Scary costumes for a Mask Festival by tomorrow night…?"

*

"Tomorrow night, you say?" Moominpappa repeated and lit up his pipe.

Moominmamma nodded, "That's what the Gaffsies have told me."

"Pfuh, Gaffsies, they're always in a rush for some business or other," he scoffed, "But this 'Mask Festival'… Now that's an interesting tradition, is it not? It's only been half a year since we've discovered them and already Moominvalley's locals have some strange but very exciting ideas on how to spend their nights. Although, one has to wonder what one does in that forest with a costume on. I assume they have to include a mask, given the festival's name?"

His wife shrugged, "I wouldn't know, dearest."

Their son was listening very intently to the whole thing. "How exciting," Moomintroll said in astonishment, "Do you think they wear the costumes to mingle with ghosts and such?"

"Perhaps they do it to protect against them and then vanquish them from whence they came!" suggested the Snork Maiden enthusiastically. "Imagine, a ghost nearly wrapping its ghoulish paws around a damsel before a handsome masked man heroically pulls it back into the darkness for another year, how terribly romantic!"

"I would hope not," Sniff chimed in, "A forest is already treacherous enough, it being haunted would be most horrible!"

"Don't be such a wuss," Little My told Sniff, "With that much cowardice one would think you'd be the first victim of a ghost, everyone knows they feed on fear."

"Hey…!" he tried to argue but hesitated on a rebuttal. "... Do they really?" he asked.

"Hasn't Mr. Moomin read you his memoirs already? I have first-hand experience with such things," she answered confidently.

"Now, now, let us not jump to conclusions about the nature of this festival just yet," Moominpappa intervened, "We should be working on our costumes instead. It would be rude to make such assumptions when we aren't even making efforts to participate."

"Pappa's right," Moominmamma joined, "I'll take out all our scrap fabrics and loose buttons so we can start on our costumes for tomorrow evening. Just as Gaffsie's daughter said, we haven't much time left."

*

The children gathered round their supplies and began discussion about the sorts of costumes they would make. Moomintroll and the Snork Maiden had no qualms coming up with ideas on what to wear, all ranging from cowboys to outlaw criminals in dark rags to mysterious vampires of the blackest night. Sniff, on the other hand, lacked that imagination that came so naturally to his friends. Perhaps it was an inheritance from his father or his mind couldn't be bothered with anything but fantasies of vast fortunes, but he couldn't wrack his mind of anything spectacularly original or exciting, it was just a costume for one night, really, how much thought should one put into it when there's nothing much of worth to get out of it in return?

Moomintroll turned to Little My who was observing everyone else with her usual mischievous glare, "What are you going to dress up as, My?" he asked politely.

"An imp, of course," she said pridefully, "A very, very terrible one!"

"Ah, yes, how terribly you…" Moomintroll mumbled.

"How nice it must be to make up your mind so soon," said the Snork Maiden despondently. "There's simply so many things one could be at a time! One could be a man-eating plant or the undead corpse of a noblewoman, or a ghostly Booble who walks the Earth, bound to never return to the heavens he was guardian of…"

"Or one could be Tarzan," Moomintroll added.

"Or one could be Tarzan!" the Snork Maiden repeated, "The possibilities are endless! How awful it is that we've only found out the day before the festival is here!"

Sniff looked on and fiddled with a round button in his paws, waiting for any inspiration to strike, but nothing came to mind. He couldn't think of anything scary or creepy he wanted to be – it was hard to imagine, too. Maybe it would be best for someone else to suggest it for him, but he didn't want to seem helpless enough to ask directly, not in front of Little My. She never seems to run out of ways to insult him, his ears drooped just thinking about it.

"The issue with the idea of this festival is why should one want to pretend to be someone or something terrifying for a night?" Moominpappa said to his wife. "I could understand pretending to be something greater or more exciting to live as than oneself, but to be something scary that nobody would want to be around? That's difficult to grasp."

"I would imagine it's just for the fun of it, dear," Moominmamma answered while sewing a black cape, "It's like a game of pretend, where one plays the bad guy who does horrible things to others. Everyone knows it's not truly you, and it's nice to pretend to be intentionally cruel for a short time when you're usually not, free of meaningful consequences."

"Hrm," her husband crossed his arms thoughtfully. "Now that does sound more reasonable in that sense," he admitted, "What kind of creature will that cape be for, by the way?"

"A vampire, perhaps," Moominmamma said noncommittally, "Perhaps you could be the one to wear it, vampires are usually former nobility after all. Or would a tax collector suit you more? Those are terribly scary," she joked.

"I would never…" Moominpappa said and heard a knock on the door. It was the Inspector.

"Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Moomin," he said gaily and tipped his helmet, "I'm here to tell you about the Mask Festival tomorrow. I hear you were just informed about it by Gaffsie earlier today, no?"

"I'm afraid so," said Moominmamma, "We've only now started coming up with ideas on what to wear for the occasion."

"Right, and the masks themselves?" asked the Inspector. "We advise on something more advanced than a simple domino-style eye mask."

"We haven't the papier-mâché or paint for it, I don't think," answered Moominpappa, adjusting his tophat awkwardly.

"Oh, that shouldn't be a problem," Inspector assured, "There's a mask salesman that always comes this time of year, he makes brilliant masks for all kinds of creatures! Children and grown-ups alike!"

"Is that so?" Moominpappa asked, "And where does one find this Salesman?"

"On the riverside entering the forest," said the Inspector, "You couldn't miss him from the rack of masks he always keeps next to him. But, I must warn that he's the socially awkward sort."

*

They arrived at the mask stall without a clue on what to expect from the Salesman. The man next to the stall had an oddly intimidating aura around him as he sat on a rock with his front turned towards the forest, shadowed by the overcast weather, with his tall red hat and yellow overcoat. Everyone felt it, but Sniff was the only one who showed hesitation to approach him.

"Good day, sir," Moominpappa spoke first, "You must be the Mask Salesman, I take it?"

The Salesman twisted his head ever so slightly only to catch them in the corner of his eye (not that anyone could see his eye, however). He made a vague noise of confirmation.

Moominpappa was reluctant to continue, he didn't quite like people of business who don't speak back at him, it's either rude or unnerving. Moomintroll continued in his stead, politely; "We're looking for masks for the festival tomorrow, if you don't mind. Do we simply take one each and pay for them or…?"

"No payment needed," said the Salesman very suddenly, he still hasn't turned to look at them. "They're made from duty. Priceless."

"O-oh," stuttered Moomintroll, "Well, thank you dearly, mister."

The children went on to look for masks that would suit their costume ideas. It really was quite the variety of masks, every shape and pattern one could ever dream up in their lifetime – it was daunting, almost, but they had managed to pick something out eventually. Moomintroll settled on an eye mask with stars embellishing the eye holes, Snorkmaiden picked out a matching beautiful butterfly mask at the recommendation of Moomintroll, Little My picked a 3-horned monstrous face, Moominpappa picked a sickly green ghoul and Moominmamma had chosen a strange looking face resembling a rather stoic woman, which looked quite chilling to her husband.

Sniff, however, still struggled to take a mask for himself. Are all of them really priceless? Just out of the duty of some unknown, nameless stranger? None of them resonated with him in any case, they all felt so… impersonal and disposable, never meant to be considered his mask, and most of all they were all rather unsettling. One of the masks opened its eyes and jumped out at him.

"Come on and pick one, you big lousy mouse!" Little My urged him.

"My, please!" cried Sniff, startled. "I'm trying to!"

"Go on, then! We don't have all night!"

"Rushing him wouldn't be wise," muttered the Salesman, "He'll pick one he likes in due time."

Little My looked at the Salesman and hummed disappointedly, "Fine, then," she said and hopped off the stall.

After a moment, Sniff's thoughts drifted to curiosity about the Salesman himself. What's he doing with his back turned against them and slouched over all this time? The Moomins always tell him it's rude to snoop but this lack of professionalism is infuriating for an aspiring businessman such as himself, someone must know what he's doing and set him straight.

He snuck over to the Salesman's side and saw a glimpse of him polishing something. A mask, pristine white and smooth unlike the other masks in his collection, with red streaks laying vertically across the upturned eyeholes, and a red smile. The shape of its nose would fit Sniff's perfectly. There was something captivating about this mask, and he couldn't help but stare in silent admiration.

The Salesman stopped polishing the mask and turned his face at Sniff, what felt like the first good look at it anyone's ever gotten in a lifetime. He was very elderly, he had a white moustache, and his eyes were sunken so deep into his head that it was hard for one to tell if they could move, or if they were even white. Sniff stepped back almost apologetically.

"This one is not for sale," said the Salesman sternly.

"Pardon?" asked Sniff, baffled.

"You cannot take this mask," he elaborated, turning his face back down to the mask. "It's too valuable. Not meant for the festival."

Valuable, Sniff repeated in his mind as he glanced between the man and the thing in his paws. Sniff suddenly felt quite displeased, he wasn't even thinking of doing it but now he felt this deep injustice within himself for not being able to take it for himself. He furrowed his eyebrows and scoffed; "I wasn't even thinking about it, goodness!" he said, miffed, "And I'm not taking any of your other masks either, for that matter! I find them all unpleasant!"

"Are you done, Sniff?" Moominmamma asked from a distance away as all of them were about to leave.

"I'm coming!" Sniff cried and turned back to the Salesman, "I ought to make my own mask, and it's going to look much better and more valuable than your lumps of sawdust and fabric, just you wait and see!"

The Salesman stared at him and said nothing, Sniff remembered how unnerving such a man was and hesitated to continue further. Little My yelled that she'll eat his dinner if he doesn't come, and once he regained his senses, Sniff huffed and stomped away to join the others, "Good day, sir!" he said and grumbled his way to Moominhouse.

"You didn't get a mask, Sniff?" the Snork Maiden asked, concerned.

"Nothing would've fit me, I'm afraid," he said, "Well, except for this one he was polishing, but he wouldn't give it to me!"

Moomintroll sighed, "Did you really have to pick the one mask that was off limits?"

"It was the only good mask!" Sniff cried defensively, "But not to worry, I'm sure to make a better one," he added confidently.

"Right," Little My commented ironically with her paws behind her back. Sniff glared at her.

Chapter Text

And of course, Sniff wasn't able to make anything to his satisfaction for the whole evening, hauled up in his personal room with nothing but newspaper scraps, cardboard and the almost dry tins of paint he could scrounge up around the house. His mind couldn't stop thinking back to that mask the Salesman was polishing – it was the only mask with any stated value after all, one that the Salesman wasn't willing to give away without a notice, and whatever Sniff himself made didn't live up to that perceived value.

He tried replicating the thing to the best of his abilities, but it still wasn't the same; it wasn't polished or smooth and it definitely didn't look as nice as the original did. And it was never perfectly suited for his nose like it was, or it may be that his mind was merely exaggerating how good it looked, who is anyone to know? He crossed his arms and looked at the mess he made on the floor, having grown impatient and sleepy.

"Tomorrow," Sniff thought and crawled into his bed, "Perhaps tomorrow will be better."

*

Sniff woke up from a nightmare he had mostly forgotten about by the time he ate breakfast with his family.

"Did you make your mask, dear Sniff?" Moominmamma asked gently when she placed Sniff's plate of pancakes in front of him. Sniff kept quiet about it through the whole meal, Mamma understood well enough that he didn't want to embarrass himself by saying no outright. He didn't even respond to Little My's provocations with anything more than a furrowed brow while he chewed on his pancakes.

Once he finished his breakfast (which he almost always was the first to do with any meal), he quickly excused himself instead of asking for seconds like he usually did. He quickly developed a resolution in his heart: He must get that white mask from the Salesman. It's the only thing he could imagine himself wearing at the festival in his convoluted stubbornness, otherwise he only had a shoddy black cape to show up in. He must take it by any means necessary.

Sniff went down the verandah stairs and turned back to say, "I'm going to my cave to sort out a few things!"

"Sure, dear. Just be back before sunset," Moominmamma said without question. It was clear that Little My, meanwhile, was most suspicious of Sniff's intentions; she knew a lie when she heard it. The rest of the family simply took to finishing up their costumes for the coming evening and My joined them anyway. She would've followed Sniff if she hadn't an imp to refine for the big event.

"Do you think Sniff would skip the festival entirely?" the Snork Maiden whispered worriedly in the living room, she wasn't one to want anyone to feel left out of any occasion.

"I wouldn't put it past him," Moomintroll answered truthfully, "He's always been one to panic over anything even slightly more dangerous than normal, especially at the last minute."

"Isn't that a little harsh?" the Snork Maiden replied. "I hear he saved you from a cliff, after all."

"Snufkin did and Sniff just followed what he was told. He enjoys taking credit whenever he can," Moomintroll corrected.

The Snork Maiden hummed, unconvinced but having no choice but to take his word, "I suppose you should know him best, having known him the longest."

Little My stared at the Snork and Moomin pair whispering between themselves and then continued stitching up her yellow garment. She couldn't help but feel Sniff is currently doing Something inadvisable, but it's far too late to know where he actually is at that moment.

*

Sniff arrived at the mask stall, there were fewer masks hanging from the racks than yesterday. The festival is fast approaching and it looks like everyone is planning to go there. He mustn't come up unprepared. He sat on the yellow grass and the Salesman turned his head to glance at him again. He's polishing that wonderful mask today as well, it must really count for something.

Time stood still between them. Sniff sat there in silence, nobody could say if it was stubbornness or determination that drove him (perhaps both), and the Salesman sat on the rock and kept polishing, one could only assume the tobacco in his pipe stopped burning a long time ago. They both somehow understood the impasse they were in without a single word. Sniff wanted to take the mask, the Salesman didn't want to give it away. Irreconcilable desires.

Nothing changed but the moving shadows that were greyed and blurred by the clouds overhead all day. Nobody came by for a mask for themselves either, everyone was too busy refining their own costumes, so it was only the two of them.

So much time had passed and yet no time passed at all, that was until the sunset yellowed the valley into a land of orange and gold. The Salesman let out a heavy sigh.

"There's no use, is there?" he said with exasperation, "You're not leaving without this mask, are you?"

Sniff's ears perked up, finally, an end to this. "No," he responded curtly.

"And you really want to wear it for the festival," the Salesman continued.

"Yes."

"You must know that the festival ends with the burning of everyone's masks, right?" The Salesman finally looked up at Sniff and seemed almost… sorry.

"Does it?" Sniff asked, taken aback by this new information, "Must everyone burn their masks?"

The Salesman nodded. "It's the main ritual."

Sniff ruminated on it for a moment. Now that changes things a bit, doesn't it? Such craftsmanship must be wasted as ash on the flames of a bonfire. That won't do…

"Do you still want the mask?" asked the Salesman, he turned his body to Sniff and held the mask forward, "There won't be anything else like it, this Laughter Mask. And I can't remake it for next year, there's no way to."

Sniff knew the Salesman would be saying those things just to dissuade him from taking it, he had to be. It only made Sniff more resolute in his decision, he did waste the whole day on this afterall. "I'll still take it," he said seriously, "I'll even tear it with my own paws before burning it if I had to."

The Salesman lifted his back in surprise, but then resigned with a sigh. "I must say, you really are a stubborn Fuzzy," he said and gave it to Sniff in one paw.

Sniff got up and took the mask, "I'm not a Fuzzy, not entirely at least," he explained, "But thank you terribly, mister. It's perfect." He lifted the mask up at himself and admired it greatly.

The Salesman looked at Sniff, then looked at the sunset. "The festival starts once the sun's gone, be quick." He said, "And don't forget what I told you."

Sniff looked at him and nodded, then he ran all the way to Moominhouse with all that his legs were able to carry him. The Salesman stared until he got out of sight.

*

They're meant to leave for the festival now and Sniff is still nowhere to be seen, this worried Moominmamma terribly as she peered out from the verandah.

"He hasn't come back yet?" Moominpappa asked from the doorway.

"No, dearest," Moominmamma answered miserably.

"So he really did leave to skip the festival…" the Snork Maiden spoke softly.

Moomintroll patted the Snork Maiden on the back reassuringly, "It's all right, not everyone has to come along. You shouldn't have to worry about the likes of him. He could seclude himself in our cave all he wants, we won't be bothered by it, right?"

"Something doesn't smell right," Little My muttered.

There was a knock at the door, the Inspector had agreed to escort everyone to the Mask Festival's bonfire. Moominpappa greeted him with the tip of his hat.

"What a silly mask," commented Little My with a snort. The Inspector's mask looked like a carved pumpkin.

"I'm meant to be dressed up at the Headless Horseman," the Inspector told her politely.

"Well, it's not much of a costume if you've always been one," she replied. She was never terribly fond of the police, but they usually make for very fun targets. However, this one's seemingly naive politeness makes him either boring or infuriating, it almost makes him worse than the straightforwardly rude ones in her eyes.

"Please ignore the little one, she's not skilled in the art of being mannered," Moominpappa apologized.

"Children often tend to be, I don't pay any mind to it," the Inspector laughed, "That sort coming from an adult would be exponentially worse."

Moominpappa laughed along, "Right, right, you're awfully correct on that!" he said and turned to his family, "Are we ready to leave now, everyone?"

The children were enthusiastic whilst Moominmamma seemed more downhearted than anything, but she lifted her head up and cracked a smile, "Yes, dear." She put on her mask and everyone left for the forest.

"I forgot to ask, but what does one do during the Mask Festival?" said Moominpappa to break the silent walk.

"We dance and sing and eat food, of course, classic festival activities," explained the Inspector. "And at the end of it all, we burn our masks to symbolize the shedding of our faux identities."

"Shedding our identities?" Moominmamma repeated curiously.

"There's this entire story behind it," he said, "Centuries old, I think. There was this woman who was an actress who played a queen character, and she became so obsessed with the role when preparing for the play that she kept playing that character with the mask on even after it was long over. Just about everyone hated it, and in the end she burned herself trying to free her soul, or something. And now we burn our masks as a reminder to not end up like her."

"... You could've told that story a little more dramatically," said Little My.

"I'm not good at being dramatic, ahah," replied the Inspector, "But it is a scary tale if you hear about it from anyone else. I think it serves as a caution just like any good story; we wear certain masks everyday of our lives for specific reasons, and when we get absorbed in one artificial identity it can be easy to lose the sense of who you really are and become a shell for someone else entirely, so we wear physical masks to pretend to be something we're not for the festival and then burn them, because we should remember that those things aren't us, and we should always be ourselves."

Little My tisked, "I've never had to wear that sort of mask."

"I'm sure you never did," he replied.

"That poor lady, though!" the Snork Maiden remarked sympathetically. "Couldn't anybody have saved her without having to burn her?"

"I don't think they could," said Moomintroll, "It's exactly why it's a cautionary tale, one should catch the pattern and stop it before it becomes too late, like in the story."

"I would be so distraught if something similar happened to anyone else, even in a non-literal situation," the Snork Maiden mused, "Could you imagine… not being yourself anymore, but someone else who isn't even real… though, a queen wouldn't be an awful choice, if it were to occur."

"Perhaps that's a game of pretend for another time," Moomintroll suggested.

*

They finally arrived at the Mask Festival, it was a lively show of music and dance and chatting. In the middle of everything stood the autumn bonfire, roaring delightfully amid the cheery atmosphere. Little My took to raiding the food table the moment she laid eyes on it, and was soon greeted by her eldest sister.

"My!" the Mymble's Daughter screamed and grabbed Little My before she could take a dip in the punch bowl.

Little My turned her head and gave her sister a wide smile. "Well well well, if it isn't my irresponsible old sister, how's it going with the housing situation? Still huddled up in that tiny shack?"

The Mymble's Daughter sighed, "I'm trying, you know that!"

The Mymble's Daughter wore a white dress and a purple mouthless mask with the eyes blacked out with mesh. It would take a minute for anyone to fully recognize her, but Moominmamma got it eventually and approached her.

"Mrs. Moomin!" cried the Mymble's Daughter delightedly, "I hope my little sister isn't giving you much trouble, I'm terribly sorry again for leaving you with her."

"It's all right," replied Moominmamma, "She hasn't given us too much trouble thus far, she's even calmed down with the savage-play and taken to simple jump-scaring."

"That's good to hear, madam," said the Mymble's Daughter in relief. She put Little My under one arm while she did her best to squirm out of her grip. "What about the rest of your children? Are they getting on with Little My?"

"It's a mixed reaction, I would say," answered Moominmamma. "Though I am particularly worried about her and Sniff. Sniff is a tenderhearted creature, you see, and he doesn't take kindly to My's usual antics."

"Lily-livered would be a more accurate description," squeaked Little My.

"Oh, hush!" exclaimed the Mymble's Daughter, and looked back at Moominmamma, "That's sad. Our siblings after her would always join her in spelling trouble for anyone in the vicinity, I suppose she's taken to him as a main target."

Moominmamma agreed, "I suppose so."

Moomintroll and the Snork Maiden joined the dance around the bonfire, and they were having a merry time doing it too.

"Oh, Moomintroll, this festival really is quite splendid! I really wish Sniff were here!"

"You're still thinking about him?" replied Moomintroll.

"I-I mean, how could I not? He must be feeling miserable all by himself back home, and he couldn't even get a mask ready for the festival… it must be horrible," said the Snork Maiden.

Moomintroll slowed his dancing, "Snorkmaiden."

The Snork Maiden hummed curiously in response.

"Must you always feel sorry for everyone?"

"Oh?" she responded, "Oh! Oh no!" she shook her paws, "It's just that, Sniff is our friend! It feels bad to leave him on his own and have fun doing so, don't you think?"

"Snorkmaiden…"

"You know how hard it's been for me since my brother left, don't you? It's difficult to not feel terrible for someone else in a similar situation, especially since me and Sniff have so much in common," she explained.

Moomintroll scoffed, "But you don't have anything in common!"

"With how you see each of us, we don't," the Snork Maiden began to sound peeved, "But we both like jewels, and we both want to become something bigger than ourselves outside this valley! And I would imagine if Sniff noticed he would be bothered by every little insult you throw at him because it almost feels as though you're insulting his friendship with us as well! How could you not feel terrible?"

Moomintroll stood still, "Snorkmaiden, I…"

A deep, throaty laugh echoed through the party. Everyone turned their heads to find the source of it. It was hard to find where it came from in the middle of a forest for a good while, but there it was again, and everyone settled their eyes on the creature with big, brown ears and a white mask looming on the edge with a black cape.

"Sniff…?" Moomintroll muttered.

The creature marched unnaturally to the bonfire and looked at the band staring at him in awe. He gestured at them to start playing and they began with a slow waltz. He danced quite elegantly to it, big, slow strides with each movement. Once the music picked up he began to dance boldly, with spins and jumps and little hops with his feet, it was mesmerizing how he commanded the crowd's attention. Soon, everyone else joined in with the dance, clapping a beat and orbiting around each other in pairs. The festival was back in full swing!

It was enjoyable for everyone who didn't find Sniff's talents off-putting, those of which happen to be his family.

"Was Sniff able to do that all this time?" Moominpappa asked cautiously.

Moominmamma leaned over to him and shook her head slowly, not taking her eyes off the show. "No… I don't know…"

Sniff quickly turned to the Snork Maiden and offered her a paw, which she accepted with a second of hesitation and was suddenly taken to a wild but thrilling dance the likes of which she never remembered experiencing. Moomintroll stood there, bemused, bothered and bewildered. Sniff welcomed the big finish with a deep bow and walked off like he had a great mission to do elsewhere. The Inspector called everyone to gather around the bonfire to burn their masks.

And so they did, every last one of them, be it clay or fabric or paper, they were engulfed in the flames and faded to black and to ash. It was an awe-inspiring sight, to watch so many little masks crumble into nothingness gradually. Little My stood watching her three-horned imp mask living out its final moments and looked around at everyone, then she looked behind her. Sniff was hiding amid the trees and then disappeared. She hummed suspiciously, but looked back at the fire without saying anything.

*

Sniff took off the mask with a loud gasp and cackled elatedly. "I did it!" he cried, "I made it to the festival! I danced! Everyone loved me!"

He breathed heavily from exhaustion and looked down at his mask, "Everyone…" he repeated softly. "Why should I have to burn such a wonderful thing after something so marvellous as that? It's such a nonsensical ritual anyway," he thought, "It's not as though anything would happen if I don't. And I got a wonderful mask to keep all to myself! It's like it was made for me, just me! And it made everyone like me! Those faces… I've never seen such faces looking at me… how wonderful…"

He sat a little more. He put the mask back on and twirled his way back to Moominhouse, humming a cheery tune on the way.

***

Sniff found himself in a very dark and very wet dungeon, it smelled of wet rats and the foulest vomit. Water dripped from the damp cracked ceiling, the uneven floor was covered in deep brown puddles. He would instinctively shake his paws furiously whenever he stepped into one and his stomach kept churning from the awful smell. It was hard to navigate this place, very hard indeed. And unpleasant.

In the dimness he could make out thousands of lines that covered the dungeon's wall, ones that looked like tally marks, and as he followed them the lines grew more exaggerated and furious until they looked like big claw marks hashed out by a very, very large beast. Strangely, this didn't frighten Sniff; rather, he grew curious about where the end lies. So many of these lines could easily count up to hundreds of years, maybe even thousands, he thought, but who (or what) in the world made them?

He kept walking along the wall which seemed to become not a wall anymore, the lines made it all dark and dusty. Finally, he reached the end. He almost forgot what the wall originally looked like, but there it was, another, clean one right in front of him, but it seemed to move away from him.

A deep laugh echoed through the dark dungeon and made Sniff's neck fur bristle. He slowly turned his head and saw what could only be described as the most disgusting, overgrown rodent you could imagine sitting upright on one of those shelf-beds you'd see in an old prison, and beside it was a torch flickering at its shoulder (the rodent thing was very large) and Sniff looked up at its face to find it wearing his mask. It laughed again.

"Oh! Oh! A little Fuzzy boy!" it cried between its howls, "What fun! It's really been so long!"

It got down from its bed and walked on gloved paws, "Excuse my strange looks," it said ecstatically, "The Devil wasn't very tender with my soul… hahaha! But I was so much like you once, in the face and all," it continued and pointed at Sniff's mask.

Sniff recoiled in fear at the sight of it, but the large beast didn't seem to be bothered.

"Tell me your name, boy!"

"S-sniff," he stuttered.

The beast suddenly went quiet, thinking, then laughed loudly and said; "You're funny! Terribly funny! But I meant the name your parents etched into your soul, the one the heavens know you by."

"I-I don't know what you mean!" Sniff blurted, very, very afraid.

It gasped, then guffawed, "Oh, I see!!! A small lost one you are! How fun!!" it said and crouched to Sniff's level, "Say, you know what happened at the festival, do you? The one where you danced so spectacularly? That was me! I helped you! And I can continue helping you, you know! You know how everyone admires you greatly now! We must continue to bless the valley with such wonders!!"

The beast held a very long and boney finger up to Sniff's chin and whispered gleefully in his ear; "If you share your body with me, I will share my amazing talents with you, and they will become your talents as well, and everyone will love your talents so much they daren't dismiss or insult you any longer, they'll all acknowledge all the loveliness you truly give to this world!" It laughed.

"Doesn't that sound wonderful?"

Chapter Text

Sniff should have gotten up to smell the breakfast by now, thought Moominmamma while she wiped her paws. And she was right, that was the routine for Sniff for the past 2 years and he would only miss a morning because of an adventure.

They all did stay up until late, she supposed, and dancing like he did last night must've been exhausting, but still, one should wake him up before the eggs get cold.

Moominmamma went up to his room and peaked in, he was still sleeping, and more importantly his floor was an awful mess. There were craft materials strewn about and his costume cape was dropped on the floor next to his bed – but oddly enough, his mask was hanging on the bed frame, as if it should never be touched by the filth below.

Moominmamma thought that it didn't look very home-made, and she didn't remember seeing this as one of the masks that Salesman offered, but perhaps she just didn't notice. She decided to clean up a bit and picked the cape from the ground; it was black with red embellishments on the collar, and in the middle back was a frowning sun half-covered by a smiling crescent moon.

It was strangely well-made, she noticed. It was rushed, but still well-made, as if whoever made this very much knew how to stitch fabric like this at a moment's notice. When he said he was going to his cave, could it be he was asking a friend to make this for him? But who could that be, she wondered.

No matter, she thought, she could just ask him later. First she needed to wake him up, and so she did by shaking his side.

"Good morning, Sniffy," she said very gently, "I made scrambled eggs today."

*

There seemed to be a bit of tension between the children at the breakfast table, and Moominpappa was too busy reading his newspaper to notice.

The Snork Maiden decided to be the first to break the silence, "So, wasn't the festival so fun last night?"

Sniff's eyes lit up, "Sure it was!" he said with his mouth full, then swallowed, "I bet all of you were terribly impressed by me, weren't you?"

"Indeed!" replied the Snork Maiden, "I didn't know you could even dance like that!"

"Indeed," Moomintroll repeated after her sullenly, "Since when did you know how to dance like that?"

"I suppose I never had the chance to show off my talents," Sniff answered pompously.

"And who gave you the idea to steal Snorkmaiden away?" Moomintroll continued bitterly.

Sniff blinked at him twice, "Did I?"

His adopted brother raised his voice, "Yes you did! Do you not remember?"

He looked down trying to think, "I… I suppose there must be some things I don't remember…" he muttered, but then his ears perked up with a realisation and smiled at Moomintroll smugly, "Why do you ask? Did I make you embarrassed? Perhaps even… jealous?"

Moomintroll's face turned red, "Why, you…!" he growled at him.

"Moomintroll, Sniff," Moominpappa interrupted, "Please behave yourself at the table. If this is a matter that should involve fists I suggest you duke it out after breakfast, and outside." He sipped his coffee and continued reading.

Moomintroll sat back down and sulked.

Little My took a big bite (relative to her size) and hummed, "Moomintroll isn't wrong, you know. You did act strange at the festival, and you didn't even burn your mask! Quite a shame really, it was one of the best communal spectacles of destruction I've ever witnessed."

"Oh, that's right," the Snork Maiden remembered, "You weren't there to burn your mask with everyone! Why is that?"

Sniff hesitated to answer, "Because, erm…" he looked at the chandelier and scratched his chin, "The Salesman let me take the mask on the condition that I don't burn it…"

"Oh, is that so?" said the Snork Maiden.

Sniff nodded. "Anyway," he said and got up from his table, "I'll be off."

"You aren't going to ask for more food?" asked Moominmamma.

"I'm sorry, Mamma," he replied, "I have… other things to do."

Sniff left in a hurry and everyone looked at him as he climbed the stairs, and then looked at eachother.

Little My climbed up on the back of her chair and looked at the staircase. "He must be up to something…"

"And you're the one who wants to know about it?" asked Moomintroll.

"As an agent of mischief, I must know what everyone is doing, so of course," she said grinning at Moomintroll, but she became contemplative when she looked away again. There was something amiss and she didn't like it.

*

Over the course of a few days, the family couldn't see much of Sniff or talk to him. Nobody in Moominhouse understood what was going on with him, and everytime he came home he was too exhausted to speak to them. Little My took to taking out her boredom by other means to make up for his absence (one notable incident involved a few pans and Moominpappa's top hat.)

The rest of Moominvalley, on the other hand, saw him very often. At first it was delightful impromptu shows wearing his mask; juggling random objects, balancing on outlandish surfaces, juggling and balancing at the same time, and more often than not it would involve a jumpscare or few along the way, everyone for the most part welcomed this new Sniff, especially after the spectacle he put on the night of the festival. But as the days passed, so did Sniff's acts become more… troublesome, and hurtful.

Pranking hemulens on their peaceful duties and ruining their activities, leaving the Inspector's rose garden but a pile of dead petals much to his complete and utter despair, Gaffsie's daughter was given a good fright when her mirror revealed a clown instead of her own face. And one mustn't start prattling on about the one where he tore up the Muskrat's most precious copy of Crime and Punishment to create an army of paper pigs in his wake, each one of them dampened so the text became too blurred to read. All of this among other practical jokes that disrupted their daily lives.

But worst of all; he stole the Fillyjonks' toy train and hid it somewhere impossible to reach without some embarrassing gymnastics from their mother. How dastardly.

Everyone was whispering amongst themselves on what to do about it; they only had a surface idea of how the Moomins are, afterall, it'd be a terribly rude thing to confront them about their adopted child when they don't understand the situation or don't know the Moomins as good friends.

One soul who was brave enough, though, was one orange-haired Mrs. Fillyjonk, who volunteered herself as ambassador of the Concerned Victims of Sniff's Tomfoolery.

"And confront Mrs. Moomin herself, at that?" one of the valley's residents asked her worriedly.

"It's only right for a mother to tell a fellow mother off for her children's awful behaviour, is it not?" she asked rhetorically. Everyone else was too polite to object to that notion.

*

"Sniff? Really?" Moominmamma was bewildered as she poured in the tea, "That doesn't sound like him at all. Are you truly certain it's Sniff?"

"I certainly can't think of another big-eared rodent with a tuftless tail in recent memory, can you? He's even wearing that same silly mask he wore at the festival!" Mrs. Fillyjonk told her exasperatedly. "You need to sit that boy down and teach him some good manners for once, it's become detrimental to the good people of Moominvalley. Not that I don't understand why, knowing how you've brought up all your children."

"Excuse you?" Moominmamma replied.

The rest of the children were eavesdropping from the kitchen as Moominmamma and Mrs. Fillyjonk began arguing.

"So that's what he's been up to…" Moomintroll whispered.

"Unbelievable!" said Little My, "The gall he has to take the title of Moominvalley's Menace from me! We should set him straight sooner than possible!"

"Why would he be doing such things to everyone?" asked the Snork Maiden with horror.

"Nyeh! Wrong question! We should be asking where he is!" Little My pointed at her and started walking to the kitchen's exit door.

Moomintroll raised his eyebrow, "You seem rather impassioned about this. Does being The Prankster mean that much to you?"

"How much do you think it means to me?" asked Little My angrily, "Sniff has gotten completely out of line with this behaviour, if he's acting like me then there must be something deeply wrong going on! More wrong than the grass being red or the sea being dry! Now let's go!!"

Little My dashed through the door and Moomintroll and the Snork Maiden followed.

Little My ran through the valley and kept a diligent eye out for Sniff's silhouette, he must be out and about somewhere. She stopped and tried to think: where would someone who's on a pranking spree most likely be? Near a home where people usually are. And which one would he choose? Someone he hasn't pranked yet. And who did Mrs. Fillyjonk not mention as a victim of his…

The Mymble's Daughter.

"Oh, he better not be in the midst of pranking my sister! Nobody has the right to do such a thing but me!" she cried indignantly, "Now where was her stupid cabin? He's going to get a good bite on the ankle when I get a hold of him!"

Little My continued running just as her friends were managing to catch up to her.

"My!" Moomintroll cried, "Darn it," he muttered, trying to catch his breath. The Snork Maiden stayed back to try and help him.

Little My saw Sniff sneaking up on her sister hanging up her clothes by the lake. "YOU!!!" she screamed as loudly as she could.

"My?" the Mymble's Daughter turned in her direction. Sniff stopped mid-step to look at Little My and was greeted with a direct hit in the knee, throwing him to the ground.

Little My climbed on him and glared down at his masked face, "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, YOU IDIOT! MISTREATING MY ELDEST SISTER IS A ONE-WAY TICKET TO THE BLACKLIST!"

"Little My!" cried the Mymble's Daughter and picked her off of Sniff. "What do you think you're doing!?"

"He was- I- Sniff was going to throw you into the lake if I didn't stop him! He's become more of a menace than me! Nobody can have that!" Little My explained herself.

Moomintroll and the Snork Maiden finally arrived at the scene, "Little My! Sniff!" they cried, breathless.

Sniff sat there in silence and looked at them. Moomintroll turned to Sniff, still breathing heavily from exhaustion, and began scolding him; "Sniff! We're here to confront you about your horrid behaviour since the festival! What's gotten into you!?"

Sniff tried to speak but it was muffled by the mask.

"And take that wretched mask off!" Moomintroll added.

Sniff put his paws to his mask and tried to take it off, but he seemed to be struggling.

"Is it stuck?" asked the Snork Maiden and tried to help him, but it was still no use.

Sniff stood up and tried even harder to rip the mask off, it wasn't working. His muffled screaming became louder the harder tried, and he began stumbling around. The Mymble's Daughter dropped Little My and held him so he wouldn't fall to the ground, "Careful! Goodness!"

Sniff tried ripping it off again, and again, and again, and then he just… went limp. Everyone stared at his motionless body in horror.

"He's fine! It's fine! His heart's still beating," said the Mymble's Daughter, though still extremely panicked herself, "I think he just passed out from exhaustion! Oh dear… oh dear oh dear!"

"... The mask is cursed!" realised the Snork Maiden loudly, "It has to be, right? He couldn't take it off, and- and, and the Salesman told him not to burn it, didn't he say? It must be because it's cursed! And he gave it to him as punishment for wanting to take it!"

"Calm down," Moomintroll said, barely keeping calm himself, "You're right, you're right! It must have something to do with that Salesman, there's no other sound explanation for it!"

"I knew something was rotten about him! Mysterious old people who go around selling things always do!" Little My agreed.

"Right!" Moomintroll replied, he then looked at the Mymble's Daughter solemnly. "Ms. Mymble, we must take him to the Salesman right this moment! Who knows if he's left town yet!"

The Mymble's Daughter tried getting Sniff off the ground, "All right, I'm coming —"

"No!" cried Little My suddenly, "You mustn't come with us!"

"Why not?"

Little My raised her paws up dramatically, "It's dangerous for gangly spinsters with average looks to approach older men who have magic! That's the rule!"

The Mymble's Daughter gaped at her little sister with the most dumbfounded and disapproving glare imaginable.

"... Fine, if your friend gets spirited away or whatever, never to be seen again, that's going to be on you," she said and lowered him to the ground to leave.

Moomintroll stared in disbelief, "... What in the Booble's name was that, My!"

"I don't want her to go near that man now that we know what he's capable of!" explained Little My, "Insults like that are the only thing that can keep her away."

The Snork Maiden hesitated to speak; "W-well then, I suppose we should carry Sniff to the Mask Stall, then?"

*

The Salesman stared longingly at the golden landscape before packing up to bid farewell to the Valley in all its quiet glory. It was early November after all, a place like this sleeps so quietly in a blanket of snow.

He was just about to close the box of his stall for the journey away before a searing pain sunk into his thigh. He yelped and tried to kick off whatever was causing it but it didn't seem to go away. He looked down and found the little Mymble girl he saw the day before the mask festival.

Little My angrily muttered something unintelligible with the leg in her mouth and then let go, "Now fix him! Or else!!" she said, pointing at Sniff who was being carried by Moomintroll and the Snork Maiden at both ends. The two of them gently set him on the ground and looked at the Salesman with pleading eyes.

"Please?" added the Snork Maiden, sadly. "We promise he'll never take a mask he shouldn't ever again!"

The Salesman looked on in shock and horror, "Oh, don't tell me that boy didn't burn the mask at the festival!"

"What do you mean? You told him not to!" Moomintroll retorted.

"What? No I didn't! What do you take me for? A villain!?" the Salesman replied, "He just kept sitting there with big eyes all day until I relented and made sure he knew to burn the mask at the end of the festival! I hoped that thing wouldn't take hold of him by that time!"

"So you knew it was cursed!?" cried Moomintroll.

"That's exactly why I didn't want to give it to him!" He pinched the bridge of his nose, "But as it turns out he's more stubborn than a Hemulen with a wooden axe! Good grief, out of all the masks…"

"Well?!" Little My said impatiently, "Can't you undo it?"

"I'm afraid there's nothing anyone can do if he's unconscious with that thing on… he'll be completely possessed once he regains consciousness, and he'll be someone else entirely even without wearing the mask."

Little My clenched her fist at him, "Do you want to be bitten again!?"

The Salesman raised his paws at her, "Nn… I…" he hesitated and looked away, but then he sighed and looked down, "I suppose there's one way, but it's a costly ritual with no real guarantee."

"And what is that?" she asked.

The Salesman looked at the grass for a moment and muttered; "We call on the Mask Queen."

"The Mask Queen?" repeated the Snork Maiden.

The Salesman nodded, "The woman who started it all, the first to fall victim to a mask's possession and the cause of ones which came after."

"You mean the actress whom the festival is dedicated to?" asked the Snork Maiden with great interest.

"That's the one," said the Salesman while rummaging through his box of masks, "What they don't tell you is what happened after her death, and that is; she became a sort of spirit of masks and created her very own realm where she built an empire out of lost souls who also suffered her fate. The liars, the cheaters, the insecure, the overeager and over-pleasant, all those who lose their sense of identities and become but a shallow vessel of a new person is under her domain. Those who sell their souls to her for a supernatural favour also become masks, that's where that Laughter Mask came from. If she could do that, surely she could undo it just the same."

The Salesman started decorating the ground and trees with masks around him and the children. "Now close your eyes and hold still, I'm going to try and get her to communicate with you, and you better use that time wisely."

"And if it turns out she doesn't help?" Moomintroll asked reluctantly.

"... I'm afraid you'll lose a friend, child."

The children closed their eyes and held their breath with anticipation. The Salesman lowered his head, clasped his paws close to his face and mumbled something long under his breath.

The children felt the odd sense of the world around them disappearing, the air changing, and it didn't smell of damp grass anymore. Once they opened their eyes, they saw a very tall and finely-dressed woman with a blank face surrounded by a large force of faceless guards. She stepped forward silently towards them, everything about her felt unknowable.

It must be her.

***

"You are terribly annoying when you try to resist me, boy," the beast laughed bitterly.

"Shut up!" cried Sniff desperately, "We didn't agree to this!"

"It's really funny that you took my word at face-value, being shallow and short-sighted are traits of a great comedian."

"You…!" growled Sniff, "You… you smelly… you smell terrible! You thief!"

"Now that's just a bad insult, I could give a few words of advice on how to insult someone above you, I happen to be a professional at it before I became stuck here for Lord knows how long," it chuckled at itself.

"I don't care! I don't care, I don't care! Just get out of here you filthy rat! You parasite! You made me hurt people!"

"And those people didn't care about you before you put on my mask, did they?" the beast rested its face on a paw, "I have been doing you the greatest favour of all the world, really! It's not my fault you don't share my wonderful sense of humour. At least now they pay some mind to the pitiful likes of you."

Sniff snarled on all fours at the beast, but there wasn't much he could do with his tail tied to that of a rat's extending from the end of a void.

"Acting animally, are we?" the beast laughed, "How nice of you to lose your senses, especially since it's finally my cue to step on-stage."

The beast stood up and began to walk away, but then stopped. "Oh," it said, and chuckled, "I suppose I should give you the honour of seeing my true face, it's only fair after giving me this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

The beast took its mask off and smiled.

Sniff stumbled in horror at the sight; it was him. In face and body. It stole his face and body! That should belong to only him! And to use it with such an unnatural smile! He doesn't smile like that!

The beast cackled uproariously, "You should see your face!" it said in his voice, "You really are the funniest thing I bore witness to in centuries!"

The beast left to the darkness. And Sniff couldn't do a thing but lie down in disbelief.

***

Sniff finally sat up from his unconscious state and looked at the intimidating sight before him. He couldn't help but laugh.

The Snork Maiden noticed him moving, "Sniff!"

"Who dares call upon me?" a hollow feminine voice reverberated into the children's heads.

"Uhm, y-your majesty!" Moomintroll responded nervously (his father taught him how to conduct oneself in front of a royal), "Please forgive our intrusion, really, but we must, uhm, humbly request your assistance!"

"Get this mouse back to his senses!" Little My interrupted.

Moomintroll turned to look at her in a panic, "My-"

"I'm afraid he's far gone," said the Mask Queen, "That's a different soul residing in his body now."

"What?" said Moomintroll, "That can't be! No!"

"There must be something we can do to reverse it! Please!" begged the Snork Maiden tearfully, "We can't lose him! We'll do anything! Just… please…"

The Mask Queen rotated her head down at the Snork Maiden holding Sniff, and said, after a long thought; "Tears. You must make him weep tearfully. And it is then he shall return to his original state."

"You're kidding!" yelled Little My. "That can't be all there is to it!"

"It's a simple but difficult task," replied the Mask Queen, lifting a finger up. "The tears will loosen the mask off his face, and so he will be free from it as well. But the Laughter Mask doesn't cry easily, and if you fail, I must take him away to my Mask Realm for all eternity, where he shan't bother you with his tricks."

Moomintroll looked up at the Mask Queen and then at Sniff. He approached Sniff cautiously and kneeled before him, trying to think of something that would make his adoptive brother cry.

"Erm…" Moomintroll began, "I know you hate talking about him, but… remember that cat you adopted after the Comet missed?"

"Oh, don't tell him about the cat!" cried the Snork Maiden. Little My seemed to be taken aback by this new information.

"And then it disappeared for no reason, and you were so depressed that you couldn't eat for days?" Moomintroll continued, "And you would try to leave out a saucer of milk for him just in case he would return one day? And then you gave up when we all had to hibernate?"

Sniff stared at him.

Moomintroll lowered his ears and could barely muster up the courage to continue further, "Do you remember how upset and angry you were when you saw a couple squirrels lapping at the saucer instead of your cat? And how you would cry to Mamma about all the things you wanted to do with him…? Wasn't it…" he sniffed, "Wasn't it all so awful for you? Do you remember? What was the cat's name again…?"

Sniff stifled and then erupted into a howling laughter, much to Moomintroll's horror. That definitely isn't Sniff. He wouldn't… oh, Booble.

The Snork Maiden covered her nose in shock and quietly panicked, "O-oh my…" she muttered, but then had an idea. "Erm… well if it isn't Sniff… maybe we should try telling him a story anyone would be sad about! That has to work…"

Once Sniff calmed down, the Snork Maiden sat down beside him and tried to tell him a story; "Once upon a time, there was a little girl named… Binnie, whose mother died when she was very young, and she was left all alone with her terrible, drunken father who couldn't handle her mother's death…"

Sniff began to cackle. The Snork Maiden tried to keep going, "And… and her father refused to work at all to provide for his daughter, so Binnie took to selling flowers to make ends meet to pay their awful landlord, but her father said that her work wasn't enough. So every night he would…"

Sniff laughed louder. The Snork Maiden's voice shook as she tried to continue "Her father would… her father would mistreat her… and afterwards she would cry herself to sleep, remembering how tender it felt to be in her late mother's arms…" she started to tear up. "Oh! I can't do this anymore!" she sobbed suddenly, "It's no use! He isn't budging and I'm crying more than him! This is all so wretched!"

Little My gritted her teeth and shoved the Snork Maiden to the side with all she could, "Step aside! I've made grown men cry and beg for mercy! I know what to do!"

In truth, she really didn't know what to do. All her life, she never knew how to express herself with anything but mischievous glee or petty anger, that was really all she could manage with her small size. She never understood why, on the most fundamental level, one would cry or be afraid, or why one would be upset about things being one way and not the other, or why one felt pressured to uphold some imaginary standard or feel empty if they have nothing to accomplish. All she knew was being mad or glad, and all she knew about making people cry is to make them fear her by being angry at them.

"Now listen here you overgrown rat!" she shouted. Sniff couldn't stop laughing but he looked in her direction. "If you don't squeeze out even one tear right this moment I'm going to bite your leg so hard you wish you could amputate it! And then I'm going to twist your arm to your back until you lose the ability to write!" she yelled and grabbed him by the arm, nails digging into his fur, "And you're going to be so terribly sorry after all of this is over that you are going to grovel and lick my boots until my birthday next year, on which you're going to give me every little thing you own so I could smash it all up with a frying pan and make you eat the junk that's left behind!"

Little My started to shake as Sniff continued to laugh at her, then she pointed at his face; "Do you hear me!? If you don't get back to normal right now I'm going to… I'm… I'm going to get really mad! And since you'd be gone to this hellish place when I get mad then there'll be nobody else for me to be mad at other than myself!" she said, voice cracking, "And that is going to be an issue every single person in the valley is going to have to deal with! Alright!?"

"My…" Moomintroll said gently, "Are you crying…?"

She turned to look at him with red eyes, "What? Since when do I cry!?"

"Just calm down, please, I don't think you're getting anywhere through to him…" he replied with glistening eyes, "I don't think we can manage it… he's gone…"

The Mask Queen spoke up, "That settles it, then. I'll have to take him for myself."

"No! You can't do this!" cried Moomintroll, but the faceless guards already picked Sniff up and started carrying him off to who-knows-where.

"No!!!" the children screamed in unison.

"Let him off now!" shouted Little My, trying to grab onto the Mask Queen's dress, but it was no use.

"There's no other choice."

***

"NO!" Sniff cried, trying to break away from his tail. "How dare he! How dare that monster take what is mine! And to what end does this serve? What meaning does it serve!? Did I not give him enough!? Give him what he asked of me!? And now he dares to think he can take what is rightfully mine!"

His own body and soul! His own ears and nose and fingers and toes, his teeth and heart and stomach and skin, he wants the whole of him! The whole of himself that should belong only to him! It is not an old man's property to be rented or taken like a coin on the road! It is not a vessel to preserve a crusty old mouse who laughs so obnoxiously! He'll laugh and laugh and laugh until his voice is too shrill to ask Moominmamma to lick out the pan! Or to tell Moomintroll that he is not in his right mind! And what use is that! What! Use! Is! HE!

The small animal gnashed his teeth at the rat's tail, "GIVE IT BACK! GIVE IT BACK TO ME!" he growled. "IT IS NOT YOURS! IT IS MY BODY! MINE! YOU CAN'T HAVE IT! IT BELONGS TO ME! YOU'RE BUT A STUPID MASK! GET OUT OF MY MIND!"

The tail didn't get pierced by his dull claws or his sharp teeth. Stuck, Sniff ceased mobility. He couldn't escape, yet he writhed like a worm in a bird's beak in his defiance, growling and hissing and wagging his tail all the while. A bite didn't have any effect. Another minute, and the boy tired himself, it was no use. He stared up at the scene, voiceless.

…

How full of dread. The one earthly possession he thought he could keep forever was now being transferred to someone else. And what do souls do when they don't have a body any longer? Does Sniff swap places with the mask's soul, waiting for another wretch to take his place? Or does he wander the land as a ghost? Or a spirit unable to be seen or heard from, ever? Does he go to heaven? Or does he go down instead? Would he be stuck here instead?

…

He should've eaten Moominmamma's food earlier. She cared so much for him and all he did was fixate on things so frivolous as dance and pranks. He can't... He couldn't fulfil his dreams of becoming rich. He couldn't get anything named after him. He couldn't make his name known. And what of the people who already do know his name? Will they have to deal with this monster? ... Will they like him more than Sniff? Oh, goodness, his friends. He'll never see them again. He'll never see Moominmamma again!

"Moominmamma! Moominpappa! Moomintroll! Snorkmaiden! Snufkin! … L-Little My!!"

He won't see any of them again! He won't be able to hug Mamma anymore!

"Mamma! Mamma! Please! Is anybody able to hear me!?"

Silent. Frozen in time. On a ground with no describable feeling. The longer he looks at this… prison, the more sickening it feels.

He hates it. It's horrible! Let him go home! He wants to go home!

"This has to be a bad dream! No no no! No! NO! No! No! No! No! NO!! No!!! No…"

No…

He'll never see anything or anyone ever again.

He lowered his head to the ground.

A sniffle can be heard in the dead of silence. And another, followed by a hic.

Sniff wept.

***

A tear managed to bleed through the mask, then another on the other eyes, then the damp spot slid down his face, and the mask began to slide on his nose. It finally fell off.

The guards dropped him immediately, and everyone could see him sobbing on his paws and knees. His friends stood in shock and then rushed over to his side.

"Sniff!" they all cried in relief and hugged him, except for Little My who stood just behind them. It felt a little suffocating to be hugged by two trolls at once, but it felt nice to be warmed again.

"Well," said the Mask Queen, staring down at the group, "I suppose that settles it then."

She picked up the mask and dragged out a bright, round shape from the inner side. "Now then, dear Jester, it's about time you give it a rest."

She placed the light on the ground and it formed into a rather average-sized Fuzzy with his back turned to the children, they all stared in awe.

The Fuzzy sighed deeply, "Your facelessness," he greeted bitterly, not looking up at her.

"You've made quite the ruckus in the physical world," she replied, "But I must say, every good kingdom must have a Fool to keep, don't you agree? Come now. And guards, leave these children back home."

"W-wait!" Sniff yelled and wiped his eyes of tears, "Turn around, I want to his face. His real one…"

The Queen thought for a moment. "Well, since he did cause you so much trouble, it's only fair we fulfil such a small request. Jester?"

The Fuzzy grumbled and turned his head back slowly, with the most sour expression they've ever seen on any long faced creature, including Fillyjonks. It was… terribly like Sniff's. Down to the nose and the eyes, only that the ears were smaller, and he was older, obviously.

Sniff gawked at him, and then started laughing. "You really do look like me like you said! Incredible!"

The Fuzzy seemed confused at first but started laughing along with him, and they both laughed and laughed until the scenery faded to the riverside where they were before. It's nighttime.

*

Sniff calmed down and looked down at the mask on the ground.

"Burn it!" Moomintroll cried urgently. "Burn it now! Quickly!

"Yes! You're right!!" said Sniff and picked up the mask.

The Snork Maiden went to gather up some sticks and Little My used a match she always keeps handy, and as soon as the fire became stable Sniff threw the mask onto the flame and they all watched it burn like it was nothing.

They all fell to the ground and panted.

"Finally, the nightmare is over…" Sniff muttered.

Moomintroll looked at the stars and lowered his eyebrows with guilt, "Sniff, I'm so sorry for being rude to you before…"

"Really? I didn't even tell you why I kept wearing that wretched mask," Sniff responded.

"Well, it's just… I realised how terrified I was of losing you like that… I felt that I would never be able to forgive myself if the last conversation we had was some petty argument because I felt threatened by you."

Sniff looked at him with some surprise, but then smiled.

"Little My seemed pretty shaken about it as well," Moomintroll mentioned.

She sprang up and crossed her arms, "No I wasn't!"

"Oh, but you were!" teased the Snork Maiden.

"I was not!" repeated Little My, "I knew it would get fixed somehow, so I had no reason to be anything but confident about the mission."

"Sure," said the Snork Maiden and giggled.

"I'm getting hungry, let's go home and ask Mamma for some pumpkin pie!" said Moomintroll and got up.

"That sounds wonderful! Are you coming along, Sniff?" asked the Snork Maiden.

Sniff waved a paw at her, "You all can go ahead of me, My was really onto something when she said I was missing out on the mask burning."

"Oh… okay then," she replied.

The three of them started to leave, but then My looked back at him staring at the flame. "Are you really fine, after all of that?"

"Hm?" Sniff looked at her, "Oh, there's been worse things I went through in the two years before, you probably wouldn't know that well. It's odd that you would ask, though."

"I'm just checking to see if I could dump a bucket of water on you tomorrow without causing you too much distress and get myself in trouble with the others, you see." She looked away.

"... How considerate of you," he replied sarcastically. "But really, I'm fine."

"All right."

Little My began to leave but then kicked a strange mask on the ground. It looked a lot like the Salesman, and she didn't remember this one among the masks he used for the ritual. It seems… It seems he sacrificed himself to save Sniff. Terribly foolish of him, but kind.

Little My continued walking home.

Sniff kept staring at the fire until it went out on its own, and only the sound of the night creatures filled his ears. He looked up at the stars and felt… something. It couldn't be put into words in any language, he felt.

Sniff stood up and walked home as well. Moominmamma's pumpkin pie was nothing anyone should miss out on.

The ides of November will approach solemnly, there isn't much time to dwell on things when hibernation is coming.