That evening Snufkin decided to sleep on his tent instead of in Moominhouse. He thought it would be a good idea for him to get out a little and spend some time in his own head. And he was having a good time- he pitched his tent by the river, as always, and set up his fishing rod. Things felt almost normal again... Except that he didn't have a head yet.

Snufkin wasn't sure what was holding him back, but his subconscious certainly did, and he realised what was troubling him so deeply that night.

He was running. It was a cold night. He felt breath so heavy on his chest, he saw it, smoky white. He turned around to see if he had caught him now. A chase. He was running and he was running out of time. And he felt it faster-
He heard the footsteps catching up on him. He bit his lip so hard he bit the skin off completely. He felt the blood about to drip and saved it with his tongue.

It tasted like metal.

He told himself no matter what happened tonight that everything was gonna be OK, yeah, everything was gonna be alright. He wasn't sure if he believed it.

But he had let himself slow down and he heard the chaser jump. It pushed him down and clawed at him and made his hot blood pump. It's eyes were full of hate and it said it should have left him there to die. It screamed how he should be dead and how he had ruined its life. How could it be sorry that he had managed to survive?

"Snufkin?"

Snufkin sat bolt upright in his tent in a cold sweat. He looked around the weather beaten canvas of his tent, saw daylight filtering through it. A shadowy figure could be seen cast against the light. Suddenly he gasped in pain and looked down at his arms- only they were invisible again.

Good, Snufkin thought, inexplicably brutally angry all of a sudden. I never wanted to be seen anyway.

But his arms hurt terribly. He ran his hands over them and realised that they were bleeding and there were deep gashes up his forearms. Then he realised that his hands weren't really hands at all, but clawed paws. This was something that had started happening now and again, and Snufkin just assumed it was what happened when a Snufkin grows up. He must have accidentally scratched himself during his nightmare.

"Snufkin!"

Snufkin jumped and looked up. It was Moomin.

"Are you alright?"

Snufkin fell back against the matress with a sigh. He didn't want to see Moomin. He didn't want to see anyone today.

His dream had been about his father, he knew. He realised now why he wanted to remain unseen: it was because his father had abandoned him, giving him an underlying and undeniable feeling of worthlessness. He sat up slowly and hugged his knees up to his chest. Hopefully Moomintroll would get the idea and leave him in peace.

"Snufkin!" He called again. Snufkin sighed and put his head in his hands, knowing he couldn't ignore Moomin any longer. Very reluctantly he put his hat on and unzipped his tent and stuck his head out.

"Snufkin," Moomin was crouching by the tent. "Are you alright? It's nearly midday."

Snufkin was surprised that he had slept so long. He crawled out of his tent and sat beside Moomin on the grass.

"Would you like to come for lunch?"

Snufkin shook his head. Once again, the idea of food made his stomach churn.

"Did you have breakfast?"

Snufkin shook his head again.

"Snufkin..." Moomin sighed. He had seen that Snufkin's hands, feet, neck and tail were invisible again. "You..."

"Hey!"

It was Little My. She came pelting down over the bridge.

"Snufkin, get up you lazy thing!" She yelled. Snufkin sighed heavily. He just couldn't deal with his sister today.

"Little My!" Moomin shouted. He got up and hurried over, while Snufkin remained slumped on the grass.

"Little My," said Moomin quietly to her, so Snufkin wouldn't hear. "Please go away- I don't think Snuf wants to see anyone today."

"Then why are you with him?" Little My demanded.

"He..." Moomin sighed. "I came to see if he wanted any lunch. He hasn't eaten again. I think he's relapsed."

"Oh..." Little My looked forlorn. It was an odd expression on her face. "Shall I tell Mamma?"

"Yes please," said Moomintroll quietly. "I'll try to get him to eat something, but it might be hard. I'll see you in a bit."

Little My nodded and ran back up to the house. It was a mark of the strength of their friendship and her care for Snufkin that she did what Moomin asked.

Moomin turned back to see Snufkin in the same position, slumped helplessly, shredding grass with his invisible paws.

"Snufkin," he said seriously. "I'm sorry, but I'm really worried about you. You're underweight. Please, come back to the house with me and just eat something."

Again, Snufkin felt an inexplicable flare of anger rear in his stomach. What did Moomintroll know? Is wasn't any of his business if he didn't want to eat. He felt annoyed by everything, even the birds singing, and especially Moomin and his constant mothering. He wanted to shout, but he had no voice.
He got to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Moomin called.

"Away from you!" Snufkin screamed, but no sound came out.

"Snufkin, wait!" Moomin ran over and grabbed his arm. Snufkin wrenched it out of his grasp, snarling. "Please, just wait," Moomin begged. "I'm sorry. Please just sit by the river with me?"

They stared at each other for a moment, Moomin pleadingly, Snufkin glowering.

But then Snufkin sagged and guilt rushed over him as he looked into his friend's wide, anxious eyes. Slowly, he nodded. Moomin smiled gratefully.

They sat side by side on the grass, not talking. Snufkin's stomach was tying itself in knots. He felt so bad for snapping at Moomintroll when all he ever tried to do was help. And he knew that his friend was right to worry about him. Yes, he had relapsed. His relationship with his father had made him feel worthless and small and like he wanted to disappear.

Moomin had his back to Snufkin. Snufkin chanced a glance at him. He was making a flower garland.

This tiny act of normality and peace made Snufkin so calm and relieved that he fell back onto the grass beside Moomin. Moomin looked down at him and smiled softly, then placed the flower chain over the wide brim of Snufkin's old green hat.

"It's beautiful," said Moomintroll.
"And so are you," said Snufkin. But he didn't really. And even if he had, Moomin wouldn't have heard him.