Chapter Text
“See you in spring.”
“See you.”
Every year, it was the same.
Except, maybe, that Snufkin had decided to leave earlier than usual this time. Autumn was only starting. The wind was still gentle and the leaves had only begun to crisp at the edges. When Moomin asked him about this, Snufkin only said:
"I have to see a certain someone"
Moomin felt himself go a little dizzy at that. The thought of his friend leaving was already enough to make his stomach flip, but for some reason, Snufkin’s words made it all even worse.
It was probably the timing, Moomin thought. He was leaving weeks earlier, that's why it stung. Moomin had been caught unprepared, his heart hadn’t had time to ready itself for the ache of goodbye. All he could do was sigh.
He stood in his usual spot by the bridge long after Snufkin’s hat had disappeared behind the bend.
Maybe the imprint of his friend’s presence might linger in the air if he only thought hard enough. He tried to imagine he could still hear the harmonica somewhere. Maybe, if he stayed here long enough, Snufkin would regret his decision and come back, at least until the proper winter arrived.
It was a foolish wish. He knew that.
So when the bushes suddenly rustled behind him, the sound snapped through his quiet like a thrown pebble shattering still water.
“Hey,” a voice barked. “Is he already gone?”
Moomintroll barely had time to blink before Stinky squeezed himself out from between the branches, burrs still clinging to his fur.
“Stinky?" Moomintroll said. “What are you doing here?”
“Passing through,” Stinky said, though his sly grin suggested he was rarely just passing through anywhere. “So? Is Snufkin gone? Thought I’d bother him a bit before he disappeared again.”
“Yes,” Moomintroll answered. “He’s gone.”
“Eh. Too bad.”
Stinky kept talking, something about stealing Snufkin’s tobacco pouch last year, and how Snufkin never even got mad, which was a real waste of a perfectly good annoyance.
Moomintroll let the words wash over him, not really listening. He just wanted to be alone. Alone and curled up until spring.
But then Stinky tilted his head, squinting up at him.
“You know,” he said, “those other friends of his must be really something.”
The words slid under Moomintroll’s ribs like a sudden, cold draft.
“…Other friends?” he said, panicking and turning toward Stinky fully for the first time.
“Well of course,” Stinky drawled, stretching his arms lazily. “He travels all year, doesn’t he? Can’t be wandering around without company. Don’t tell me you think he just sits under a tree and waits for spring. That’d be dull, even for him.”
Moomintroll’s stomach gave a small, tight twist.
Stinky kept going, “I mean, think about it. He’s been everywhere. Bet he knows places a lot more impressive than Moominvalley," he paused. "He may even have a totally different favorite valley, with forests bigger than this one, more caves to explore, brighter rivers too!" Stinky said with sudden excitement.
“That’s not...” True, Moomintroll tried, but his voice trembled, and the words fell flat.
“And the people,” Stinky continued cheerfully, tapping his chin. “Oh, he must meet tons of those. Probably has a lot of friends. Could you imagine, Moomin? He definitely knows another My out there, one who doesn’t bite, of course! Or a Sniff that doesn’t faint if he loses a coin.”
Moomintroll’s breath caught. A tiny, irrational panic fluttered in his chest. Stinky smirked wider.
“Maybe even a Moominmama who doesn’t worry so much. And so, Snufkin may have a whole valley of warm breakfasts and knitted socks out there.”
Moomintroll’s hands curled at his sides. Something sharp pressed behind his eyes.
“And who knows,” Stinky added lightly, almost sing-song. “Maybe he even knows another Moomintroll.”
The words hit like a stone dropped into deep water. Another Moomintroll.
Someone else who walked with him across long fields.
Someone else who listened to his stories by a campfire.
Someone else who got the spring song first...
Imposible.
“Well, if that so-called amazing valley does exist,” Moomin began confidently, “why would Snufkin come back to Moominvalley at all?” The knot in his belly loosened a little as he spoke. “Wouldn’t he rather spend all his time with his perfect friends?”
And then Stinky delivered the final blow.
“If you think about it,” he said, leaning on a tree trunk, “Snufkin probably goes to visit them every winter. Just like he visits us every spring. Poor Snufkin. Probably, he can only see his winter-friend in winter, that might be the only time of the year his friend is not hibernating."
Everything in Moomintroll went cold.
It made sense.
Snufkin did leave every time Moomintroll went to sleep. Snufkin did disappear when the snow started. Snufkin never stayed to see the winter with him.
Maybe… maybe because Snufkin did have a certain someone, special someone, to see.
Moomintroll swallowed. His thoughts spiraled faster than he could catch them, slipping out of his grasp like Snufkin’s coat slipping out of sight behind the autumn trees.
Of course Snufkin had met other people. Of course he had. He was brave and kind and free and amazing... he fit into the world in ways Moomintroll never could.
Why would he only want one best friend? Why would he come back every spring for him specifically?
Maybe Moominvalley, as beautiful as it is, was just one stop. Not special at all. Maybe Moomintroll was not special to Snufkin as Snufkin was to him.
The thought struck so sudden and so deep that it felt like the ground beneath Moomintroll shifted.
“Well!” Stinky clapped his hands together. “Enough talk. I’ve got things to steal and noses to bother. Hopefully Snufkin will be around next spring. I’ve got plans for him.” And just like that, he wandered off, humming to himself.
Moomintroll walked home in a blur, his thoughts looping, circling, knotting around the same fear.
Another valley.
Another moomin.
Another moomin with Snufkin every winter.