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When Moomin woke up that morning, he knew Autumn was nearly over. The dreaded Winter months were upon them, and his playful days were gone until Spring. Worse still, the Winter months meant Snufkin would be leaving for greener pastures, and Moomin’s heart ached at the thought of his best friend being so far away.
Reluctantly, he pulled himself up and out of bed and stretched. It was terribly cold in the house; Moominpappa probably hadn’t started the fireplace yet. Was he even awake? Sounds could be heard from the kitchen, so at least someone was up already. Moomin was tempted to take his blanket with him, but it would be a pain to put back on his bed later, so he left it. He made his way downstairs (goodness, were the stairs always this cold?), hugging himself and rubbing some warmth into his arms as he went.
“Good morning, Moomintroll,” his mother greeted kindly. She looked unaffected by the cold as she pulled a frying pan off a wall hook.
“Good morning, Mamma.” He shivered. “Gosh, I don’t know how you aren’t freezing down here,” Moomin replied through chattering teeth. He tugged his wooly, red scarf off of the coat rack and wrapped it sloppily around his neck in a rush to get warm. Moominmamma beckoned him over and adjusted his scarf properly when he reached her.
“It’s simple, darling. I think of things that make me warm.”
“What do you mean?” He fixed the scarf under his snout the way he liked.
“Well,” she took a moment to think as she gathered ingredients for breakfast. “I think of things like sipping tea, or relaxing on the veranda in Summer. Or enjoying a hot meal with my family. When I think of those things,” she smiled, “I feel so wonderfully warm inside.”
“I get it now!” Moomin said, a smile growing on his own face. “But it’s still cold in here. I’ll get the fireplace going.”
“Thank you, dear.”
No sign of snow yet. But late Autumn brought a frightful chill that had Moomin shivering even harder. He tried to think of warm things, like his mother suggested, but it was difficult to think of anything except how cold it was outside. He could even see his breath in front of him as he walked. Seeing his breath on the air was just another reminder that hibernation was near, and Snufkin would take his leave very soon. Just as he began to grow sad again at that thought, the man himself called out to him from across the stream.
“Moomintroll! Good morning!”
Like magic, all of his sorrow disappeared in an instant. He turned and saw Snufkin sitting by his campfire waving at him.
“Good morning, Snufkin!”
“Come on over, I have something I want to show you!”
“Oh! Oh!” Moomin took two steps in his direction before he stopped and glanced about himself, remembering what he had been doing outside. “I’ll be right there! Wait for me!” He heard Snufkin chuckle as he ran the rest of the distance to the woodshed. Moomin yanked the door open, snatched up four logs of firewood, and kicked the door shut before racing back into the house. The logs nearly flew out of his arms as he stumbled over the threshold, but he somehow stayed on his feet and tossed them into the fireplace.
“If you’re that cold, why don’t you run a few laps outside? That’ll warm you right up!” Little My teased as she watched him fumble with the matchbox. She climbed into a dining chair, laughing when Moomin whined after breaking a matchstick while trying to strike it too fast.
“Oh, save it!” he retorted, trying and failing to strike another.
“What’s the hurry, Moomintroll?” Moominmamma asked from the kitchen entryway. Moomin, defeated, handed the matchbox to her along with some kindling. She set the fireplace with practiced ease, then turned to her son. “Are you off on an adventure soon?”
“Snufkin wants to show me something! Is there time before breakfast?” His mother assured him there was plenty of time to play before the food would be ready. With a quick nuzzle from her, he ran out the door and across the bridge. Snufkin was already standing, waiting patiently with a placid smile. “Okay, let’s go! Hopefully somewhere that’s warm!” He shivered again.
“If you’re looking for somewhere warm to go, you’ll be disappointed this time,” Snufkin said with a laugh. “Follow me.”
In a few minutes, Moomin recognized the path to the beach. It was the last place he wanted to visit in the final weeks of September, but if Snufkin told him to come along, he needed no bribing. Just being here with his best friend was a reward in and of itself.
The sounds of the ocean waves and crying gulls overhead grew louder and louder as they approached. Instead of trekking to their usual spot, though, Snufkin took a detour off to the right, much farther away where a smaller, secluded area of the beach lay hidden. Moomin was already excited by a new place he hadn’t explored yet and was about to run out from the treeline when Snufkin’s arm came out to stop him. “Over there. Do you see that?” He pointed to a spot on the beach about a yard away, to a strange shape in the sand, not quite flattened nor raised. The mound was in a circular shape, and even stranger scuffling marks led away from it into the sea.
“What is it?” Moomin squinted his eyes. “A sand castle?”
“It’s a sea turtle nest,” Snufkin replied. “Though I’ve never seen one around here before. Maybe their mother got lost and decided to make it in Moominvalley.”
“It’s so cold!” Moomin was surprised there would be a nest on the frigid, near-Winter beach. “Shouldn’t she be here keeping the eggs warm?”
“Actually, these babies won’t ever meet their mother.” Snufkin sounded a little sad as he explained. “After she lays the eggs, she returns to the ocean and never comes back.”
“But… but why?” Moomin’s ears hung low. The poor babies! “Doesn’t she love them?”
“It’s their nature,” Snufkin replied, and laid a paw on one of Moomin’s shoulders, now sagging too with sorrow. “Sea turtles don’t live with their families. Once they reach the ocean, they are on their own. They are rather solitary creatures, like me.”
“I see,” Moomin said thoughtfully. “I think if Mamma and Pappa left me alone, I would be very sad. But if it’s their nature, then I suppose there’s nothing we can do.”
“Indeed,” Snufkin agreed. “I have always been on my own and am not bothered by it. They will be fine, too.”
The boys were quiet for a while, just watching the nest. Moomin shifted a little in place. “Do you think they may hatch soon?”
“I think so. Those marks in the sand look to be several weeks old already. Perhaps in another few weeks they will.”
“Oh, Snufkin! Can we take care of them until they hatch? Please?” He grabbed Snufkin by the arm. Something about this nest full of helpless babies called to him, and he prayed Snufkin would agree. To his relief, he smiled at him.
“I think watching over them would be a wonderful idea.” A gust of wind blew past them, and Moomin shivered again. And it reminded him once more about—
“Winter!” he cried out. “What about your Winter travels? You surely don’t… mean to stay, do you?” A very small spark of hope lit up in Moomin’s chest. But as expected, Snufkin’s smile turned apologetic.
“I don’t plan to stay in Moominvalley through Winter. I’m sorry.” He shrugged. “But I may end up staying a little longer, depending on when the eggs hatch.” Moomin was happy to hear that, at least. His tail wagged, despite his shivering. Snufkin took a step forward. “Would you like a peek?”
They laid on their bellies in the cool sand in front of the nest. Moomin watched attentively as Snufkin reached a paw out and gently pulled sand away, digging carefully until a crevice appeared. “Look there,” he pointed into the hole, and Moomin crept ever-so-slightly forward to see. A clutch of small sea turtle eggs laid huddled together with many more buried further in beyond where they could see.
“Amazing,” Moomin breathed out. To think there were tiny lives inside each one! “I can’t wait to meet them!”
So they spent the next several weeks just like this. Snufkin moved his tent closer to the private beach to watch the nest in the early mornings and evenings, and Moomin met with him after breakfast to sit and watch it, too. Sometimes, they played games or read books to pass the time. Other days, one might nap while the other kept watch. Occasionally, one or both of them might take a walk along the beach to see what else they could find there, making sure not to stray too far from the nest. All the while, the weather grew colder and colder, so they began to spend more time sitting in the tent with one of the flaps pinned open.
One morning after breakfast, when the weather was unusually friendly, Moomin grabbed a basket to fill with a deck of cards, jacks, a jar of hot cocoa powder, fresh muffins, and sandwiches. It was a perfect day for a picnic. He had just set it down and reached for the lid when it suddenly burst open and he shrieked and jumped away from it.
“L-Little My!” he cried out indignantly at the cackling mymble. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I could ask you the same thing!” she shot back after she stopped laughing. “You’ve been sneaking off with Snufkin every day, haven’t you?”
“That’s ridiculous!” he said, but he couldn’t hide the blush that slowly bloomed in his cheeks. “We haven’t been sneaking off anywhere.”
“So you HAVE been with Snufkin this whole time!” Little My accused, then continued “okay, answer me this.” She climbed on top of the basket handle for more height. “What’s so special about the Lonely Mountain? I’ve been watching you two run off over there a lot lately.”
“What? No, we haven’t been to the Lonely Mountain at all! We’ve been going to the beach.”
“The beach, huh?” Her lips curled into a grin. Realizing he had been tricked again, Moomin groaned and covered his mouth with his paws. “It’s a little cold for pearl-diving, isn’t it?”
“Y-yes…” Moomin stammered nervously, slowly lowering his paws. “Of course it is. That’s why we’ve been busy collecting… uh, seashells.”
“Right, like Snorkmaiden and I hadn’t already picked the beach clean. Besides, seashells aren’t so interesting that you’d want to go every day for weeks on end.” Little My hopped from the basket handle onto Moomin’s head. “I bet you found some cool treasure and now you’re keeping it a secret! Doesn’t Mamma always say not to be greedy?”
“She tells you not to be greedy, Little My.” Moomin plucked her off his head and dropped her back on the ground. “And I certainly don’t need you to tell me that! There’s no treasure. Snufkin and I are just hanging out before he leaves for Winter.”
“Hanging out, huh? Just hanging out?” she sneered. Moomin’s ears flattened.
“What else would we be doing, if not just hanging out?”
“Off doing something suspicious, considering how secretive you’re being!”
Moomin felt his face and ears flushing even harder now. His tail thrashed about behind him frustratedly. “I don’t like your tone!”
“And I don’t like your attitude, but here we are!” She stamped her foot, glaring up at him. Moomin considered stuffing her into her teapot to shut her up, but he decided the risk of being bitten was too great. He rolled his eyes and grabbed the basket, then walked around her.
“We don’t have any treasure, and we’re not being suspicious. We’re just hanging out, at the beach, until Winter comes. And that’s it,” he enunciated each statement with some finality. Surprisingly, she didn’t reply to that. She only watched him with her arms crossed and eyes narrowed. Moomin filled his basket quickly then stormed out the door, glad to leave her behind. Thankfully, the weather was still nice, and he soon forgot about his encounter with the small creature living in his house.
“I wonder if it was wise to leave the way you did,” Snufkin commented between bites of his sandwich. “It roused some curiosity, I’m sure.”
Moomin sighed after eating the last bit of his own lunch. “That’s putting it lightly,” he muttered, still feeling upset, and took a muffin. “I hadn’t thought of the nest as a secret, really. But when she confronted me, I just… I don’t know, I got worried, I suppose.”
“It’s not a bad idea, keeping it a secret. Means less people will be trodding around here.” He finished his sandwich, then said nothing, just thinking. It was a weighty silence, like there was more to be said. Moomin heard Snufkin suck in a breath. “You know,” he finally spoke, “I wonder if you’ll find this strange. But I’ve grown to really care for this nest. For this time we’ve been spending together, just you and me.”
“Me too,” Moomin smiled and agreed. He tossed the muffin back and forth in his paws idly, deciding if he should say this next part. They had gotten this far, so he might as well. “Actually, it almost feels like….” Snufkin glanced at him. Moomin cleared his throat; the words felt stuck there. Why was it so hard to speak all of a sudden? “It, uh… it feels like… well, it feels like it’s our own little… family. I-in a manner of speaking!” he tacked on quickly, nerves ablaze. Snufkin didn’t reply. He felt his face begin to flush that horrible red he knew so well. “That is to say, it’s not like we’re the p-parents or anything! Just that we’re their guardians, and they’re so little and alone, and I know how you feel about kids, but it’s not like they’re ours, per se, and-and—” He knew he was rambling and making the situation much more awkward and worse. He wished he was holding onto his tail to have something other than a silly muffin to fiddle with.
“Moomintroll,” Snufkin finally showed some mercy and spoke up. Moomin had definitely said too much. He’d ruined everything with his stupid feelings and mumbling. He kept his head firmly turned away; he couldn’t even look his friend in the eyes out of shame. But then, Snufkin’s warm paw found his cheek and turned his face to look at him. He was blushing and smiling that small, handsome smile that Moomin adored. “I think that’s lovely, Moominpappa.” He closed his eyes and leaned into Moomin, resting his head on his shoulder and pushing his hat askew.
“Y-yeah?” Moomin managed to squeak.
“Mhm,” he hummed and snuggled himself closer, nestled perfectly under Moomin’s chin. Despite the weather—once nice, now turning windy again—Moomin felt positively warm and happy inside. He wrapped his arms around Snufkin and laid his head against his, reveling in this moment.
They dozed for a little while. Everything truly was peaceful: the sounds of the ocean, the wind, and the gulls, the way Snufkin’s hair tickled his cheek as he laid on his shoulder, their tummies full from a delicious lunch, Little My standing right in front of them—
“ AH! ” Moomin yelped, startling Snufkin into bolting upright with a gasp. “How did you find us?”
“Suspicious, indeed!” Little My barked out. She marched over and swiped the forgotten muffin from Moomin’s paw and bit a large chunk out of it. “I’ve been watching you two, and this whole thing has been so boring! You idiots really just sit here and yammer all day long?”
She talked with her mouth full and Moomin recoiled at the sight. He was just about to speak (first to chide her, then to defend themselves) when Snufkin instead replied “why, of course. Some of my fondest memories are of the long conversations Moomintroll and I have had together.” Moomin blushed and his ears flicked happily. He hadn’t known that! Little My gagged.
“Gross! I’m not interested in all that!” She finished off the muffin, thankfully chewing and swallowing before speaking again. “What’s this about a nest, though? I don’t see any birds out here besides the gulls.”
“It’s underground, Little My,” Moomin said. She had heard enough and had followed them, so they might as well explain. “They’re sea turtle eggs. We’re watching the nest until they hatch.”
“That sounds dumb.” She thought for a moment. “I want a turtle egg! I’ll raise it, then build a house for myself on top of it just like Mum’s!”
“Not going to happen,” Moomin asserted, feeling defensive. “It could take hundreds of years for a turtle to grow to that size. And they’re not meant to be kept as pets, they belong to the sea.” He felt proud of himself when Snufkin bumped his shoulder appreciatively. Little My set her glare on Snufkin, who simply grinned at her.
“I swear, the longer you two hang out around each other, the more you sound alike,” she spat, then sat down with them. “Fine, I won’t take an egg. It’s probably sandy and lame, anyhow. But I get to stay and watch, too!”
“It’s a deal,” Snufkin agreed before Moomin could protest. It was probably for the best anyways, and having another set of eyes watching the nest would be helpful. Snufkin poured out three cups of hot cocoa with a splash of coffee mixed in for them, and they all played cards and jacks to pass the time.
It was several hours later when Moomin suddenly woke up from his nap. Snufkin slept while leaning against his shoulder again, and Little My was curled up in Moomin’s lap. The weather had somehow gotten even colder, and he was glad for the company around him keeping him warm. He sat up carefully so as not to disturb his sleeping friends and stretched, wondering what had woken him up. The beach was as calm as it ever was, with gulls crying overhead and the waves lapping at the shore. Maybe he had just grown too cold to sleep comfortably.
But then he heard an odd sound: a strange scratching noise from somewhere nearby. He perked up as he scanned the beach again, then stopped to squint at the nest. At first, it was still. Then it started to shake as the mound began collapsing in on itself.
“Guys!” Moomin exclaimed and shook Snufkin’s shoulder. “Something is happening to the nest!” Snufkin and Little My were awake in an instant, and they all sprang to their feet to get a closer look. To their delight, tiny sea turtles emerged from the sandy pit and began to scramble about.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Snufkin cheered, and they watched as the turtles made a beeline for the ocean. Moomin whooped with giddiness, celebrating the success of the nest and the babies hatching healthy and strong.
“Hurry! Hurry! Get to the sea, little ones!”
Moomin was so focused on the turtles still digging their way out of the hole in the ground that he was shocked when Little My suddenly shouted behind them: “The birds! They’re trying to eat the turtles!” And sure enough, the seagulls had gotten louder and more frantic. They made swooping motions in the air before diving towards the newly hatched babies.
“You two keep the birds back, and I’ll keep the turtles moving!” Moomin yelled as he started racing along and picking up stragglers who wandered in the wrong direction.
“Whatever you do, don’t carry them to the water!” Snufkin called back. He ran and swung his hat around to shoo the birds away. Little My leapt onto the back of one and tugged on its feathers to guide it around and scare the others off. It was several minutes of chaos as all three of them worked together to protect the sea turtles. The distance from the nest to the ocean waves wasn’t far, but in that moment, to Moomin, it felt impossibly far away.
“Moomin! Over there!” Little My pointed as she rode by, and he turned to see a stray gull snapping at one baby that had been flipped onto its back near the end of the line. Protectiveness surged through him, and he charged at the bird with a cry.
“Don’t you touch them! Get back!” He growled and flailed his arms, frightening it—along with two others nearby—away, then stooped down to grab the turtle, flip it back over onto its feet, and place it back into the herd. He caught a glimpse of Snufkin watching him over his shoulder, wide-eyed with a curious expression. He didn’t have time to ponder this as more birds flew by and he had to pick up two more babies who’d gotten too far from the pack.
The first of the turtles reached the water, followed by several more, and Moomin couldn’t help feeling relieved and triumphant. The job wasn’t done yet though, so he dove right back into the fray, keeping the turtles in line and scaring off the gulls that escaped from Snufkin and Little My’s efforts.
Eventually, the chaos slowed down. The seagulls gave up after a long fought battle, and there were only a handful of turtles left to crawl into the sea. They caught their breaths and watched as the last of the turtles disappeared into the water.
“Well, that wasn’t nearly as boring as I thought it would be,” Little My said as she patted off her dress and pulled a feather out of her hair. “Lucky you, though, Moomin. I didn’t get to hold a turtle!”
“Neither did Snufkin, but you don’t see him complaining,” he replied. “Besides, it’s not like I was busy playing with them. I was—” he stopped when he noticed Snufkin staring at him with that same curious expression from before back on his face. There was something about his gaze, almost piercing and hypnotic, and it froze Moomin in place. “Um, Snuf?” Moomin asked quietly, feeling both a little concerned as well as… something else. At his words, Snufkin seemed to snap out of his thoughts and smiled, pink dusting his cheeks.
“You were quite brave, Moomintroll,” he said and took hold of both of Moomin’s paws. He squeezed them, and Moomin blushed brightly.
“I didn’t do much. You and Little My were the ones keeping the birds away.”
“But you chased some off, too. In a rather… heroic way, if I recall.” Snufkin spoke quieter and leaned in closer, his cheeks a darker pink now, and Moomin remembered how he had looked when he was watching him earlier. Snufkin liked that? His brain filed that bit of information away for later.
“Ugh, you guys are making me sick!” Little My butted in and shouted. “Go flirt somewhere else!”
“Off with you, Little My!” Moomin yelled back, embarrassed. He tried to pull away, but Snufkin held fast to him, even lacing their fingers together. He looked up to see those beautiful, brown eyes still lingering on him.
“Do remember that we were here first, Little My,” he said a bit distantly, not looking away from Moomin’s eyes. “If it bothers you so much, you are free to go.”
“ Hmph! Some ‘thank you’ for all my help!” she fumed, then began to stomp away.
“Wait,” Snufkin broke eye contact and called to her. He let go of one of Moomin’s paws then, reaching into his pocket and holding his fist out to her. He dropped a pretty aquamarine gemstone into her paws. “I found this among the waves. A nice reward for your efforts, don’t you agree?”
“It IS pretty cool. I guess that’ll do,” she huffed and stuffed the aquamarine in her dress pocket. “I’m going back home to eat dinner. I might consider saving some food for you, Moomin.”
“Little My, thank you,” Moomin said. “This would have been impossible for us to do by ourselves.”
“Yes, thank you.” Snufkin said, too. “Perhaps we’ll call on you for help again if we find another nest in need of protection.”
Little My flapped a paw at them and scoffed. “Don’t you get all mushy on me. Now hurry up already.” She stuck her tongue out, then ran off towards the woods leading to Moominhouse. Then they were left alone again. They were silent and still holding paws, unsure of where to go from here.
“I wish I’d had a chance to say ‘goodbye’,” Moomin broke the silence.
“Little My may be quick, but you could probably still catch her,” Snufkin replied, and Moomin gave him a strange look.
“I was talking about the sea turtles, silly.”
“Ah, of course.” They lapsed into silence again. “But I think,” Snufkin continued, “despite how young they were, they appreciated what you did for them. You protected them, and each one made it to the ocean safely.” He took hold of his other free paw, holding both paws once again. “You really did look like a parent protecting his children.”
“Oh, stop.” Moomin blushed again. “You were protecting them, too. Don’t give me all the credit.” He sighed. “It’s still sad to see them go.”
“I know, Moomintroll. And I’m afraid it’s time for me to go, too,” Snufkin said, reminding Moomin that it was, indeed, terribly cold on the beach now that they weren’t running amuck in the sand anymore. Winter was here. Hibernation would likely begin tomorrow.
“Can I say ‘goodbye’ to you , at least?” Moomin asked forlornly, ears flattened with sorrow.
“Of course!” Snufkin answered in a voice Moomin found much too cheery for the occasion. He didn’t reply, he only closed his eyes and sighed again. Snufkin leaned forward and nuzzled his snout softly, and Moomin’s eyes snapped open in surprise. “Chin up, my dear. You’re a hero! You’ve done a magnificent thing and saved so many lives today. You should be proud.” Snufkin smiled at him. “ I’m proud of you. And I can’t wait until next Spring to see what else you will do.”
“What else we will do,” Moomin corrected, then let go of Snufkin’s paws to step forward and envelop him in a hug instead. “Goodbye, Snufkin. Stay safe on your travels.”
“And farewell to you, Moomintroll. Have a good rest.”
They embraced for a while longer, not willing to part ways just yet. But eventually, when the sun had nearly slipped below the horizon, they let each other go. Snufkin packed up his belongings, and Moomin watched him go, taking his usual path leading out of Moominvalley. He stopped once to turn and wave at him one more time. Moomin felt the urge to run after him, to beg him once again to let him follow, but he forced himself to stay where he was, watching him until he was gone from sight.
When the sky had darkened to a deep bluish-black, only then did he pick up his basket and walk back home, passing the empty sea turtle nest along the way. Though, as a thought occurred to him, he kneeled down and reached into the nest, taking an empty, soft and leathery eggshell and carrying it with him all the way home.
The next day was a blur of activities in preparation for hibernation, like covering the furniture in tarps and collecting pine needles to feast on before bed. His last day awake passed all too quickly, and as Moomin settled into bed for his Winter sleep, he looked at the small eggshell that sat on his desk and smiled. He touched his snout where Snufkin had nuzzled him before. Warmth and love welled up inside his heart; Spring couldn't come fast enough.
Moomin fell asleep to dreams of baby sea turtles who carried his love across the ocean to wherever Snufkin was, and to the rest of the world.