The afternoon stretched on, and Snufkin and Moomintroll sat side by side making flower garlands for each other. Everything was calm and quiet, the day was bright and blustery, and the sun beat down in earnest. After a while Moomin's stomach gave an apologetic rumble.

"Erm... Snufkin?" He asked tentatively. Snufkin looked up at him from where he was lay on his front, threading the stem of a dandelion through that of a poppy.

"How about a little fishing?" Moomin suggested. Snufkin shrugged and passed him his line. Moomin looked at him but got no more response from his invisible friend, so set up the fishing rod and secured it between three heavy stones. It was almost supper time, after all. He would consider today a success if he only got Snufkin to eat something. And he knew that he would be far more likely to eat a fish he caught himself than a pancake made my Moominmamma.

The temperature dropped as the sun began to set, and Moomin had managed to catch four large fish. Soon he could see his breath cloud before him.

"Is it me," he said suddenly, his teeth chattering a little, "or has it got really cold all of a sudden?"

Snufkin nodded and rubbed his arms to show that he agreed.

"Let's make a fire," Moomin suggested, not wanting to go back to the house yet. Snufkin nodded again and got to his feet a little unsteadily. Moomin guessed he was weak from lack of food, but didn't say anything.

They began collecting fire wood. Everything seemed almost as though it could be normal, although Snufkin's silence began to spiral horribly. Moomintroll tried to keep up a steady stream of one sided conversion, receiving a nod or shake or shrug each time he asked a question.

As they set about laying the firewood, a fierce chill settled in the air around them and a sharp frost was beginning to spread over the flowers and grass, making everything look like it had been coated in light, sparkling icing sugar. Moomintroll stood up and looked around.

"Maybe we should go back to the house..." He muttered.

Suddenly they heard a low moaning, one they recognised. Ice began to crackle and spread over the ground. Snufkin pointed widely over Moomin's shoulder, and Moomin turned to see the towering and terrible figure of...

The Groke.

"We need to get back to the house!" Moomin cried, but Snufkin grabbed his arm and shook his head, then tapped his wrist, indicating that there wasn't enough time.

The Groke was coming over the bridge now, the river beginning to freeze over at her touch, and Moomin and Snufkin stood paralised with terror. She set her path towards the house. The Groke was not a particularly malicious creature, Snufkin knew, more just lonely and misunderstood. But the look in her eyes and the speed she was going at towards Moominhouse gave Snufkin no doubt that her intentions were negative. He didn't know what the Moomins had done to offend or anger her- or if they'd done anything at all- but he was sure they were going to pay for it.

Before Snufkin would stop him, Moomintroll ran right up to the Groke and shouted,

"Hey! You stay away from my family!"

The Groke turned slowly to face him. Snufkin scambled up behind him and placed a hand on his back reproachfully. The Groke narrowed her eyes at Moomin, anger crackling from her, then brought her arm back, and suddenly Snufkin knew, from pure instinct, that she was going to strike him.

Without thinking he shoved Moomintroll out of the way and the Groke's paw made contact with his side. Pain shot through him and doubled over, gasping, then stood up and glared at the Groke.

"You're a wicked creature!" He shouted. Moomintroll jumped out of his skin. Snufkin could be heard! "You shouldn't spread such fear and hate. How dare you strike Moomintroll!" Snufkin was becoming solid as he snarled at the Groke, his hands, his tail, his face! "You must leave now, leave Moominvalley and never return!" He shouted venomously.

The Groke looked affronded and more than a little afraid. Perhaps no one had stood up to her like that before. Then, slowly, she turned and sidled away over her icy path.

"Snufkin!" Moomin cried, dashing over, hugging Snufkin so hard he thought his ribs would crack. Moomin sobbed, tears of joy rolling off his snout, clutching at Snufkin's visible back. "You're back!"

"Oh Moomintroll," Snufkin said, squeezing him. "I'm so sorry for all the strife I've caused you! I won't ever put you or myself through that again."

Moomin pulled back and looked long and hard into the face he had longed to see all year.

The weight Snufkin had lost made his face sharper, thinner, more mature looking. His hair was tangled and longer than usual. There were deep circles under his large brown eyes, his skin was taught and pale. But his cheeks glowed and the first proper, real smile he had smiled in what felt like weeks was stretching his mouth. Tears of happiness welled in his eyes as he embraced Moomin tighter.

"I'm so pleased to see you again, Snufkin," said Moomin, his face flushed with pleasure. "How are you feeling?"

Snufkin thought about it.

He felt happier than he had done in weeks. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his chest. It had been the idea- the terrible thought- of Moomintroll hurt, Moomintroll in danger, that had shaken him out of it. A sudden need for action had seized him. The need to save Moomin from harm, resulting in a sharp pain in his side, had filled him with an irremovable feeling of worth. The relief he felt from the depressive episode leaving him was overwhelming, it left him dizzy and breathless, but full of warm joy. And as he stared into Moomintroll's pink cheeks and shining eyes, he felt more himself than he had done in months. He clutched at Moomin and said, with full earnest,

"I feel wonderful."