#I’m so bad at fussing over small insignificant details too

[ravenbronze]

Christmas in the Undercroft

Trying something a bit different! And thought I’d get festive with it since it’s December 🎄

[mar64ds]

Finding Paradise is the piece of media that I’ve connected to the most in all of my life

Hi I probably should have wrote this when I replayed the game a few months ago and there is a very probable chance that Impostor Factory might not even come out this year, but I am still thinking about this franchise right now and I’m preparing myself for the next game, even if I have to wait a little bit longer, so I wanted to write this now

It’s very long and I’m not really the best at expressing myself sometimes, but I hope if you want to read it you enjoy it!

The To The Moon franchise is really really good and, as we all know, very emotional. A lot of people have at least seen or played the first game, To The Moon, while way less people have seen, played or even heard of the second (third if you count A Bird Story) one, Finding Paradise. Everyone who does know about this game seem to still prefer To the Moon, and that’s okay! It’s a really beautiful and iconic game, and I know a lot of people connected with it, I completely understand why the majority of people prefer it over Finding Paradise. However, in my case, as you can see from the title of this post, the second one impacted me way more.

I will not go into details about the plot of this game, I will mostly talk about the themes of it, especially the ending. If you have not played the game and you don’t want spoilers, you should stop reading now, it’s a really beautiful story I don’t want to ruin. If you haven’t played the game but you don’t mind about spoilers and want to see what all the fuss I always make about this game is about then continue reading! And well I hope that if you have played the game you want to see why it impacted me so much!

 So the main points of this game are loneliness, imagination and life fulfillment. Colin, the protagonist, has always been a really lonely person and clearly suffers from anxiety, which makes him feel like every mistake he has ever done it’s absolutely horrible to the point where it affects all of his life experiences. Not only that, but when he’s old he thinks that maybe he could have done more with his life. He focuses too much on what he could have done than what he has done, always feeling like everything he does is never enough, that he could have done stuff better, that he’s always making mistakes and wishes they could have never happened, which is something that a lot of people with anxiety think, myself included.

When we see Colin’s memories and see all of those horrible mistakes and regrets he has they are all… really insignificant. Maybe one time he spilled a drink on an important date, maybe another time he made a small mistake at his job, nothing too bad nothing too big, but to Colin is absolutely horrible and it actually kind of ruins his happy memories. While never stated in the game, Colin definitely suffers from anxiety, and this is not the only part of him that I really relate to

Colin is also someone that has never fit in, he has been really lonely ever since he was a kid. He was really quiet and didn’t know how make friends. He only mentions once that he used to at least kind of get along with River (character from To The Moon), but once she started hanging out with John (the other character from To The Moon), he started to be completely alone again. While that dialogue was a nice callback to the first game, it’s something that I can relate a lot too. There have been times where I only talked to people when I sit next to them in class, and it made me feel less lonely but, when given the opportunity, they always had someone else they’d rather hang out with than me, which it’s completely understandable! But I do get that lonely feeling Colin had to live with

The first friend Colin ever made was an animal, a bird, and the important thing about that is that it wasn’t just an animal friend he made for a while and then continue on with this life: this bird meant the world to him and impacted him for the rest of his life, but I’ll talk about that more later on

 Before I talk about the events of Finding Paradise, I think it’s important to notice how the world in A Bird Story (a short game that talks about Colin’s childhood before Finding Paradise) is. It’s rather abstract, and there are definitely a lot of magical events that there is no way they could have actually happened, since this franchise is very grounded to reality. With this, adding what we know about him in Finding Paradise, we can see that Colin has a really really strong imagination, he doesn’t just think about fantastical adventures, he lives them. This might be another reason why it’s hard for him to make friends, people that live a lot in their own little world have a hard time connecting with others since it takes a lot for them to talk and have conversations. I think it’s obvious to say that this is something I really relate to as well

 Now, let’s go back to Finding Paradise once again. After the bird left, Colin had no one else to hang around with, no friends and his parents were barely home, so he created an ‘imaginary friend’: Faye. But Faye is way more than just an ordinary imaginary friend a kid creates just to have fun and play games, Faye is pretty much a comfort zone for Colin, an actual comfort character he created. He knows she’s not real, but that doesn’t make her less real or important to him. In the game, Eva and Neil (the characters we play as) didn’t even know Faye was imaginary, because Colin’s memories interpret her as someone real that was there, instead of showing the exterior vision of him writing in a book the conversations he has with her.

 Faye was with Colin for more than just his childhood, he was there with him until his late teens-young adulthood. Colin started wanting to make decisions in his life, but his anxiety made it difficult for him to do so, so ‘Faye’ was the one to push him to take those decisions and be happier, I’ll talk about this more later. Colin life started becoming fuller, he met more people and he felt less alone, he started having responsibilities, and he started feeling like he couldn’t keep himself hidden in his little inside world anymore.

Don’t get me wrong, I love this game but I know it has flaws, I don’t think you should completely abandon your comfort characters or your inside world just cause your exterior life is richer now. But don’t worry, this isn’t a story about ‘actually your imaginary world is not important you should only focus on whats real’. Like I said, it’s a bit flawed, but it is still good and it still resonated with me.

 Before she leaves, Faye does say a bunch of important stuff, and it is since this conversation until the end of the game where I can’t stop crying, which is like 40 minutes, and if you know me you should know that it’s not very easy for me to cry with a piece of media, and if I cry it’s only for two minutes. So… yeah this game broke me and I’m going to get really personal from here on out.

But anyway, Faye talks about how it wasn’t really her who made Colin take chances in his life, she never did anything he wouldn’t want to do. Colin’s anxiety makes it difficult for him to take chances, he only needed someone to be there for him, and Faye was there for him, when no one else was. Look, I can’t even describe how much this resonated with me. I suffer from a lot of anxiety and it’s very difficult for me to make any kind of choice or action, cause I constantly worry about messing up, and there have been a million of times that my only support has been fictional characters. It may sound really silly, but ever since I was a kid, if I was really nervous, I just started thinking about a fictional character I liked to feel less scared, sometimes even thought about ‘what would this character do in this situation?’ and put myself in their shoes to feel more confident. Like Faye said, it wasn’t the fictional characters what made me better, the only thing they did for me was make me feel less lonely, the rest was my own skills, the only thing I needed was confidence. And I really don’t care how corny this is, I’ve never heard any other story talk about this and I thought I was the only person that did this, it ironically made me feel less alone

 And before I talk about something else she says, I need to point out that at the end of this scene, Faye is revealed to be a personification of the bird Colin had. Colin’s first and only friend for years, he created a comfort character based on an animal that was there for him when no one else was, that he felt comfortable hanging out with. I think it’s obvious to see that Colin is definitely neurodivergent, and a lot of neurodivergent people can feel a really strong connection with animals, inanimate objects and fictional characters. It was also implied that River from To the Moon was autistic even if it was never stated, I think it’s a similar case with Colin

 Going back to the conversation, Faye also talks about her existence is related to Colin’s obsession of what the world couldn’t be, and how he should focus on what it is and could be. That he doesn’t have to hide away and it would be good for him to appreciate what’s around him.

And that’s true and that conversation helps him, but at the end of his life, when he’s given the chance of changing his memories, he starts thinking again of how the events of his life could have been different instead of being content with what he had. And Colin wants a last wish, but he doesn’t know what it is, he doesn’t feel satisfied and content with his life and he wants to be, but he doesn’t know what he wants.

And at the end of all of things, what does he need? A last conversation with Faye

 He talks to her and he finally realizes that he’s happy with the life he had and he wouldn’t change anything. But I need to talk about how shocking and important this whole scene was for me. As you know, I’m someone that cares a lot of fictional media. I think about it all the time, I care deeply about it, knowing that even if it’s all fictional, it’s important to me and it makes me happy. But there’s always a thought of my mind that makes me think I’m wasting my time. Maybe at the end of all things, none of this is important, it’s not real, and yet I’m wasting so much time of my life with it. So, for this game to show that the last conversation this man has with anyone is with his fictional comfort character, treating the whole scene completely serious and respectful, kind of meant the whole world to me. At the end of all things, Colin wants to say goodbye to Faye and tell her how grateful he was for her. He never forgot her, she never meant less for him just cause she wasn’t real, she was real and important to him just like anyone else in his life, even more, even if he was aware she was fictional.

At the end of all things, all that time you spent caring about fictional stories weren’t wasted, they meant something, they impacted your life, they made you less lonely, they might have even changed who you are, they were real for you.

 After that conversation, before dying, Colin kisses his wife. His imaginary world and his real world were equally as important to him and they both made him who he was until the end. He embraces those two worlds at the end, not making either of them more important than the other, holding them both dear until his last heartbeat.

And that’s it, that’s the end of his life. That’s the end of the game.

…And I cried writing this lol I hope you liked reading this really long boring essay

[mirai-eats]

Stray Spring:: Song (A New Day)

Snufmin, 3,895 words, part 1/5

flower symbolism bc thats how i work i dont change, Fluff, Romance, so soft it hurts, Light Angst, Sickfic, Spring Deity Snufkin, little my is a demigod???

A deity borne of spring and summer can't leave Moominvalley alone.

read on AO3

It always starts with a song. A new tune that hummed in the melting snow, reverberated through the sleepy air as the earth beneath his feet awoke. He could feel his own sluggishness slowly dissipating, melting away with the snow slush and streaming into the chilled creaks. It was too early for the flowers to truly bloom, the shade still too cold for comfort, but the sun was finally free from its smoke screen and filled the air in a watery golden haze that chased away the remnants of winter. 

Early spring felt as if one woke up refreshed from a long, pleasant nap, washed their face, and stretched out the remaining sleep kinks in a patch of sunlight streaming through the window. Everything was too sleepy to cause a fuss quite yet, but give it a couple of weeks and the forest and streams and meadows will be teaming with life. Moominvalley, an oasis that thrived the most when spring rose in its grassy knolls and buttery flowers, was a hubbub of flora and fauna, where life lived in perfect synchronicity. This was Snufkin’s destination.

It’s springtime in Moominvalley and Snufkin arrived on the very first day with a new song on his lips and petals blooming under his footsteps. He dropped his glamour on, a veil that fell like a curtain over the end of a show, but there was no standing ovation. Only plain old Snufkin, a little grimy and only a handful of snowdrops drooped from his hat, the white of their petals remained the only memory of the winter snow. 

His song echoed through the yawning valley danced in the open air and woke the sleepy residents as spring was finally here. The flowers bled from the muddy earth, vibrant crocus and sunshine-dipped daffodils, silky tulips and regal irises rose high under his breath and arched for his legs as he walked by, their centers followed his movements, the long leaves reached for his ankles to grab and soak up his warmth. He felt snowdrops bloom at his heels, delicate and hunched over to the ground as if crying over the loss of snow that matched their petals. The trees shivered alive, the snow dripping in rivulets down the scabbed trunk as the bark thawed itself out, the branches shook with the palest green buds. 

He was a Snufkin, nothing more and nothing less, and it was his job to make sure nature flourished. He was a child of the goddess of spring, after all. 

And he was terrible at his job. He couldn’t help but stick around Moominvalley longer than necessary. It was against his nature to stick around too long, but the very air of the quant valley stirred up the flower buds that nurtured in his chest. 

It’s when he reached the little bridge leading over the stream chilled from the melting snow when he felt those little buds between his ribs shudder and unfurl. A call of his name from a blue house perched atop one of the taller hillocks, a dear friend who was like a perfect cumulus cloud on a spring day drifting lazily over the valley. The slight stuttering in his song was the only indication that the petals were tickling his lungs.

“Snufkin!” Moomintroll shouted, breathless from his sprint from the house, the decline of the hill propelled him forward toward Snufkin at an alarming speed. He reeled himself in right before they would have collided atop the bridge.

“Hello, Moomintroll,” he greeted. He pocketed his harmonica and leaned casually against the railing. 

Moomintroll seemed to press himself down at the sight of Snufkin’s calm demeanor. He took a deep breath to steady himself and leaned back against the rail next to Snufkin. “Hello, Snufkin. How was your journey?”

“Alright. How was your hibernation?” 

A look of mischief flashed across Moomintroll’s forget-me-not blue eyes. Unforgettably blue. “I woke up again around midwinter and visited Too-Ticky. But tell me what happened on your travels first! I want to hear everything.”

“Everything? Even the most boring, insignificant details?” He asked with a quirk of his brow. 

“Absolutely everything.” Moomintroll nodded.

“Only if you tell me what you and Too-Ticky were up to. My story would be far too long compared to your time awake during midwinter.”

At that moment, Moominmamma called him in for breakfast. He grinned sheepishly. “Come have lunch with us?”

Snufkin nodded. It’s been a while since he’s had Moominmamma’s pancakes. 

---

He awoke from a nap with a stock of cowslip swaying gently in the breeze in front of him. The little yellow flowers seemed unbothered by the cool wind whipping through the grassy meadow and instead chose to dance with it. Snufkin blinked the crust of sleep from his eyes and rolled over to find the Moomintroll blue sky painted with streaks of wispy, white clouds. He could hear the wind playing with the grass, the leaves of a nearby dogwood burst to life with sound as it moved with the spring air. He inhaled deeply, taking in the earthy smell of the cowslip and a delicate sweetness of an apple tree just behind him up the hill. 

Moomintroll’s soft snore stuttered slightly then fell back into its easy rhythm. Snufkin rolled over to face his friend who laid sound asleep next to him, wreathed in the rich emerald and speckled with the golden flowers as if Sniff dropped his precious gold coin collection around his body. 

Snufkin reached over and flicked a stray piece of grass, taller than its waving friends. The leaf warped into a stem and from the bud atop it burst forth a delicate white and purple pansy. He flicked a few more pieces of grass, the yellow offset by the luminous white and rich violet until a wreath of pansies surrounded Moomintroll’s head like a halo. 

When Moomintroll awoke later, he thought it was quite funny how he fell asleep in a pillow of pansies.

---

The birds are chatty today. They’re always chatty, but today especially so.

They’re doing something up there.

I heard it’s a secret.

What’s the secret?

That they’re doing something up there.

It looks quite fun!

Let’s go see!

Oh, it’s marvelous! 

Snufkin couldn’t help but eavesdrop, his lips stained red from the fresh strawberries Moominmamma had grown and given by the basket loads to everyone who would accept (and even one’s who wouldn’t) in Moominvalley. Snufkin was no exception and received a hefty load of the fat, red berries. They were especially sweet, sweeter than anywhere else Snufkin had ever had them. 

“What’s happening ‘up there’?” Snufkin asked a mockingbird relaxing in the dogwood tree he sat under, it’s pink blooms like the pink that stained Moomintroll’s fur when he brought the basket of strawberries too him this afternoon. 

I can’t say! They said it's a secret, so it must remain a secret!

“Then I suppose it will be a secret,” Snufkin sighed and sank back against the spindly trunk, the pale pink petals fluttered around him in a springtime snow storm. He licked the rest of the strawberry juice from his fingers and wiped his mouth on his coat sleeve before pulling the harmonica from his pocket and bringing it to his lips for a song.

The new spring tune sprang from his lungs and into the air in a tinny melody, notes of gentle longing and a peaceful dream floated among the dogwood petals, lifting them off the jeweled grass and bounced back to the air in a sleepy dance. They swirled around in a pink flurry, not one touching back to the ground where it will be crushed underfoot, browned with death, and dissolved into the topsoil for the next spring’s flowers to bloom with even more color. For now, they danced to his song and twirled in the air as a ballroom of fairies would.

A crunch underfoot alerted him of a rather small guest approaching from behind. He kept playing until she was right behind him.

“Hello, Little My,” he said just as she jumped out from a camellia bush. She tsk-ed and plopped down next to him. With his song cut off, the dogwood petals drifted back to the ground. 

“Why are you messing with the petals? Can’t you leave them to die on the ground?” Little My asked. She busied herself with ripping fistfuls of grass from the earth. 

“Why not? Perhaps I’ve giving them one last celebration before their time is up.” He meant to go back to playing but Little My spoke again.

“I suppose so. Can you make me float? I’m so small I bet I can latch on to a rather large leaf and fly around in the air as you just did with these petals.”

“I’m afraid you’re still rather large despite how small you are.” He played his song again from the beginning just so she may hear it all the way through. She sat in the cloud of pink petals, the grass she plucked taking to the air in the gentle breeze of waltzing pinks and the stray camellia that had browned and fallen. She listened through the song and even to the next, until she got bored stood back up to mess around. 

“Does that little trick of yours work on anything but dying plants?” She asked as she hopped atop a rock and tossed a pinecone into the air as if it was a ball. 

“Only fallen plants, yes.”

“What if I fall from an incredible height? Would you catch me?” 

“Not like this.”

---

Moomin was hiding something from Snufkin. He knew he was a terrible liar, a good one actually, but terrible in front of Snufkin. He can never hide anything from his dear friend. But this needed to be a surprise. 

He got the idea from a book he read, about a group of spies with a hideout hidden in a tree. They did secret stuff like stealing important documents that can save the world or gather information from a rotten person. They were undercover heroes to Moomin. Right now, he and Snufkin, as his partner in crime always, needed a secret base. For that, he once again consulted Pappa’s building books and found a blueprint for a treehouse and discovered a secret tree no one would find. 

Of course, he felt bad for sneaking off from Snufkin and the others to build it in private, but once he’s done he’s sure Snufkin would love a little secret spot just for them. 

It needed to remain a secret to work, though. Not with Little My, Sniff, and Snorkmaiden trying to follow him all the time. Twice he got cornered by Little My on the way to his construction site, and once by Snufkin who got a little too close to comfort to the treehouse location, asking if Moomin would like to go sea fishing with him the next day.

“O-oh sure, Snufkin! At first light?” Moomin said. He tried to keep his gaze off the direction of the treehouse, which happened to be behind Snufkin.

“Are you alright?” Snufkin asked, a slight tilt to his head on concern. A stream of afternoon light trailed over a lock of hair on his tanned cheek, illuminating the red strands hidden in the brown. He tore his eyes away from lock of hair and back to a rock on the side of the pathway. 

“I’m fine, why would you think I’m not?” Moomin deflected.

“You’re favoring your left foot and you’re probably up to something you don’t want anyone to find out about,” Snufkin pointed out. 

Moomin did drop a heavy two-by-four on his foot yesterday and it was still tender, a little swollen, but ultimately alright if he iced it some more tonight. He was more worried about Snufkin sniffing out his little plan. 

“I tripped. On a rock yesterday.” He couldn’t meet Snufkin’s eyes. Warm as they were, like the hearth of the fire, they narrowed in suspicion. 

“Alright, keep your secrets.” He turned and trekked off the worn path into the foliage.

“Aw, Snufkin! It’s not what you think!”

“I know, I figured you will tell me when the time is right. Make sure to get some cabbage for that foot, though.” And with a wave, he disappeared into the greenery, thankfully away from the hidden treehouse. 

---

Fishing was one of Snufkin’s favorite hobbies. Fishing with Moomintroll was like basking in a flowerfield on the perfect spring breeze. The took a boat out in the lake and sat side by side with their fishing rods, the sunlight reflecting off the blue-grey lake and burned one’s eyes if they weren’t careful. His pipe was lit, the smokey smell burned through the air. Sweet peas fluttered atop his hat, tucked around a couple of butter yellow primroses Moomintroll had found for him and the sweetly scented jasmine from the lake shore. 

“I wish we could find a fish as fantastic as the golden fish,” Moomintroll moaned. Today was not a good day to fish, as there were next to no bites and between the two of them in the three hours they had been out here, only two fish were caught (both by Snufkin). Moomintroll was starting to get impatient, wiggling in his seat and eyes drifting to the shoreline where the forest hid new adventures. 

“I don’t think there’s any that large this time of year. Maybe we can try our luck tomorrow?” Snufkin suggested. 

Moomintroll nodded. “That would be nice. Let’s head back and we can take a hike around Lonely Mountain.”

They rowed back to the shoreline and took the fish back to Moominmamma then headed out to the mountainside, the day was still young and a quick hike around would be a nice way to end the day.

“Snufkin?” Moomintroll asked suddenly after a long stretch of pleasant silence between the two of them.

“Yes, Moomintroll?” Snufkin pulled his gaze from a tree growing out the side of the mountain.

“D’you know when your birthday is?”

That took Snufkin by surprise. “Not a clue. What brought this up?”

A surprise! A blue jay squaked from the tree growing out the side of the mountain. 

Moomintroll shook his head. “I was just wondering. Aren’t you sad you don’t have one? It’s a special day just for you.”

“I don’t need a special day.” He has a whole season, there’s no need for a single day just for him.

“Everyone needs a day just for them!” Moomintroll retorted. “How about we give you a day?”

“That’s unnecessary,” Snufkin said. “There’s no need to put all the attention on me for a whole day when there’s many other things you can be celebrating.”

“I can’t think of anything more important than celebrating you, Snuf,” Moomintroll said earnestly. 

He felt a summer heat color his cheeks, a rosey red comparable to the pinkest friendship rose. “No need to flatter me, Moomin.” He tugged his hat down over his eyes and waited for the flush to burn itself away. 

“Let’s think of a day that sounds good and we can celebrate it. Oh, but not a day that’s already passed because I want to celebrate it as soon as possible!” Moomintroll cheered and skipped ahead. 

Snufkin couldn’t shake the warm flush from his cheeks the rest of the hike, especially whenever Moomintroll threw a grin that matched the sparkle in his bluebell eyes.

---

He felt the most energized after a good sleep and a warm breakfast. Moominmamma had insisted this morning he came over for pancakes as she accidentally made too much plus she wanted him to try her new jam, a richly sweet cherry that left Snufkin’s mouth watering for more. 

“I’m glad you like it, would you like to take some back with you?” She asked. He couldn’t deny the offer and weakly took two jars of the still-warm jam. 

She pulled him aside to the kitchen, a whisper in her tone and a secret behind her eyes that matched the earthy green of the stable ground unlike the airy blue that floated away along the horizon. “The summer solstice is almost here and we want to throw a party, but Little My can’t know.”

“And why not?”

“We invited her family, including her big sister whom she adores. It’s going to be a surprise, so make sure she doesn’t find out.”

A surprise!

Oh dear, he thought. 

—-

Little My cornered him among a spot of peonies. Rare as they are due to the flowers preferring colder climates, they adored Moominvalley and burst to life with their gentle scent and petals with edges of their own. 

“What do you know about what the Moomins’ are planning?” She interrogated. 

“Nothing that would interest you, Little My,” he said, not bothering to take his eyes off the bright red ladybug chewing thoughtfully on a long, peony leaf. 

“Then it will probably interest me.” Her eyes flashed dangerously, the green matching the emerald forest, with mischief and adventure hidden amongst its green foliage.

“Even if I knew something, why would I tell you?” He challenged.

“Because I want to know!”

He gave her a level stare, her frown so deep it aged her, reminding Snufkin that she is still older than him. Then he remembered the secret Moomintroll was keeping from him, something that left him exhausted after disappearing for hours on end. He did want to know, but he didn’t want to upset Moomintroll if he followed him out one day. As of now, he wished Little My would do the same and leave it be. 

“There’s no need to know anything.” He plucked her from the ground and placed her on the broad leaf of a hollyhock, its magenta bloom matching the rudy of her face.

He ran off before she could climb down and bite him. 

---

In late spring when Moomintroll finished. It took longer than he would have liked, but he had to sneak off at just the right moment, and as he didn’t want this to end in a crooked mess of a house like the one for The Mymble and her children ended up being, he rebuilt it twice. Now it was complete, with a ladder hidden in the branches of a lower tree and a platform one would not be able to find from the ground. It was a simple box of a house painted green to blend in with the trees with the windows a little crooked and the door still a little too far off the ground, but once he decorated the place with a cozy table with chairs, a box of snacks, and an old map pinned to the wall he got from Pappa’s study (with permission, of course) it was completed. 

He needed to show Snufkin immediately, but he needed to locate his dear friend before he imploded from excitement. Unfortunately, he could not find him at his campsite, the beach, or any of his usual hang outs. He didn’t want to scour Lonely Mountain for his friend as it was getting very late, but he was getting worried. 

Tomorrow was the summer solstice, and guests will be arriving in Moominvalley, and he wanted a place for Snufkin and he to hide and plot secret missions. He was tired from running around the valley and as Snufkin’s camp was still up, he decided to wait and plopped himself down in a patch of anemone flowers and dutifully plucked them one by one, weaving them into a crown fit for a hat. Snufkin was still nowhere to be seen by the time the sun started to set. 

It was well after supper when Snufkin came back, walking back up the forest path from the beach with salt staining his clothes and boots squeaking with water. A bucket weighed down his side and the lily of the valley blooms dangled like pale bells from the brim of his hat. 

Moomin met him at the bridge, the lantern illuminating them with a warm, yellow glow where the lights of Moominhouse and the half moon light just couldn’t quite reach. 

“Hello, Moomintroll,” Snufkin greeted. “I got tuna.”

“That’s wonderful! Oh, but while you were gone.” Moomin held out the anemone crown he made. “I found these pretty flowers and made you a new wreath for your hat.”

Snufkin took his hat off and plucked the lily of the valleys from the brim before placing the crown upon his hat, sticking the stray flowers back into the band of delicate petals. “Thank you, Moomintroll. If you’re not too tired tonight, can I show you something?”

Moomin was very tired from finishing up the secret base and running around Moominvalley looking for Snufkin, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. “No, I’m not. What is it you wanna show me?”

“A surprise.”

--- 

Snufkin had led him down back to the beach and onto the fishing boat he’d anchored to the docks and rowed them out around the edges of their little bay, wrapping around the borders of Moominvalley. Moomin was nervous to be out so far from home this late when the moon was close to peaking in the twinkling sky and the only sound beyond the sleepy breaths of Moominvalley was the heaving waves. It didn’t take them long to reach a steep cliffside where Snufkin anchored the boat and helped Moomin off onto the thin strip of land. A narrow, steep trail climbed up the side of the rocks. Moomin was breathless when they reached there and he turned to admire the sea from the cliff top, the moon sending shivers of silver tracing the steep sea and the stars traced patterns of songs in the sky. 

“Follow me, Moomintroll, we’re almost there.” Snufkin took Moomin’s paw and gently pulled him toward the dark forest lining the cliffside. The trees were dense, the weak moonlight was unable to breach the woven canopy even if she was at her fullest. Moomin had always guessed Snufkin might have night vision and right now it was proven true as he was able to easily lead them through the thick trees without a bump or stumble. Moomin’s paw was clutched tightly in his own as Moomin followed closely behind.

A break in the trees brought them to a small clearing where long grass swayed in the breeze and stocks of silvery purple lilacs wafted their gently sweet smell into the open air. The moon was near gone from the clouds, but there were fireflies everywhere. It was as if the stars had descended from the bleak, clouded sky and decided to dance the night away amongst the pale lilac blossoms. 

“It’s beautiful, Snufkin,” Moomin said in awe. “How did you find this place?”

“On my way back I anchored at the beach down below and went for a walk. I saw some fireflies coming out and knew it would be stunning tonight.”

They found a spot to sit in the middle of the clearing and watched the fireflies dance to Snufkin’s harmonica music, it’s sweet, spring tunes blurring into the song of summer as the moon reached it’s pale peak and Moomin couldn’t help but lean back against Snufkin’s backside and sigh into the cool night air, a gentle note of sadness lingering in their melodies as spring came to a close.