What he encountered in his heart then hurt more than the torture ever did.

Many new sensations kept flooding him ever since running wild and unabandoned. Waves hitting him with the force of a thousand falling stars, beauty rectified. And as much as he feared or hoped or ran scared, none of it ever filtered through. Nothing ever hit him with such clarity. In his cage there were no hopes, often he was too exhausted or in pain to do anything but slip into blissful darkness when he slept.

But this felt like it. Like everything was soft and unreal and laying just beyond his fingertips. If he closed his eyes and tilted just right, he would still not be able to hold it truly.

The river did not feel like that. The river swallowed him, carried him off and filled his lungs with water. The earth spoke to him in a language he did not understand but carried with it the burden of understanding his sadness. What happened – when it happened – how it happened, all of it was ill-defined for him still. All he could tell was that the root of all his tragedy lay somewhere among these trees, buried in the rubble of time passed.

A basket had stood here. In it, big eyes had stared up at him with faint blinks, bright brown and filled with flecks of sun. Tiny hands had reached for his and wrapped around his finger, this hold the tense constricting of worry in his heart.

A human had stood here too, their arms rigid and frame edged with desire for foulness.

The basket had left and the man hadn't and he did not know why that filled him with such indescribable pain. The flowers had been important after all. But they had delivered only more perplexity to his already fraying mind.

And none of the answers he was searching for with ever-increasing fervor.

They stayed in the area for several days and never went near the river again.

Maybe a small fraction of Snufkin wanted to pretend it didn't exist. Why it upset Joxt so much still alluded him and it held no significant meaning for himself that he could place. But melancholy hung heavy in the air around the lapping water and in the end they let it be, casting their mind to less trying topics.

The climate in these meadows stayed pleasantly warm, even though it was turning well into the pits of winter. Food was plentiful in the surrounding forests and with their goal of reaching the flowers fulfilled, neither felt any pressing urges to leave again.

Snufkin did not dwell on how much he rejoiced at knowing Joxt would return to the valley with him, but knew preparations would have to be made for when he did. Not only would he have a long tale to tell, explaining how he had picked this stranger up, he also had to touch on the interesting occurrences that started happening ever since. He was not superstitious enough to believe Joxt would attract bad luck, yet it did seem like he had a penchant for getting into troubling situations.

Which was all the more reason for them to enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasted. They walked around the flower fields, appreciated the stunning nature surrounding them. Joxt napped a lot, even though he was now fully healed from his injuries. His appetite also never decreased, leading Snufkin to suspect it was just who he was. For his own part, Snufkin finally started working on his spring song, between the same peonies where he had first learned Joxt knew about 'all small beasts have bows in their tails'.

Joxt was glad to give his input through approving nods or clouded frowns whenever he played something the man did not enjoy in the slightest. It troubled Snufkin that despite his recovery in all other regards both physical and mental – Joxt had not another nightmare in weeks by now – his voice was still adamant in its refusal to return.

There had to be a clue there, peeled beneath layer after layer of mystery that Snufkin was only just starting to phantom. Though even more so he was beginning to find acceptance in not learning and never finding out. Unlike most he considered the unknown to have a certain charm and maybe even comfort. Ignorance was bliss and so long as Joxt seemed happy and not in pain anymore, who was he to pry into business not his own.

"You approve of the entire thing then?" he asked as they were sitting on the ground again. Not the peonies this time, a simple change of scenery. A field of lavender stretched out in all directions, its recognizable calming scent inescapable. Several bees hovered around them, dedicated to their duty of carrying pollen from stem to stem.

Joxt traced them with his eyes as he responded. Cheerful, he told Snufkin. He had to admit his song had a jolly tilt to it this year, high notes and fast-paced transitions. As usual, he was inspired by the coming of spring and the reunion he would have with his friends, however his adventures with Joxt might have influenced him some as well.

It felt like the world around him was changing too and for Snufkin, this would always reflect in his music.

"I do say it is a lot easier on the ears when there's a joy to it," he said jokingly, getting an easy smile from Joxt in return. Those had also become only more frequent over time. "And easier to dance to as well. Do you dance, Joxt?"

Joxt shook his head, which surprised Snufkin only in that it indicated he had an answer at all. Showing a profound knowledge of terms and subjects that Snufkin had assumed eluded the other man, with every passing day it became clearer to him Joxt must have had a lot more experience with the outside world than anticipated. Pinching his two first fingers together and holding his hand upright, Joxt moved them in a circular motion. It took Snufkin a moment to ransack his brain for the meaning, but when he got it he laughed.

"Only with a special someone, you say? Well, I suppose if you have a person you'd consider as such, that would do quite nicely. Do you remember?" It was mostly meant as an offhand remark but once again Snufkin got a reply he did not expect.

No. Do you have someone?

A flustered feeling befell him and he could feel his entire face becoming red suddenly. It was Joxt's turn to laugh at him, the deep rumble still oddly reminiscent to Snufkin though he hardly noticed it this time since he was too busy trying to make himself invisible on immediate notice. Fairly certain he was blushing to the very tips of his ears he pulled his hat further down on his hair again, a nervous habit that had always saved him well in the past. At the very least it hid his face from view.

"Why in the heavens would you think that?" he asked with as much indignation as he could muster, though he had an inkling that should already be obvious. If Joxt was about to say what he thought Joxt was about to say, Snufkin might just have to die from shame on the spot.

But Joxt merely raised an amused eyebrow at him, as if considering whether embarrassing him further was worth it. Snufkin desperately hoped for it not to be and thankfully fate was in his favor and Joxt shrugged slightly, shaking his long hair loose from his shoulders.

When to the valley? he inquired.

Snufkin knew the sudden shift in conversation steering to their return to the valley was also not coincidental, but he was not above ignoring the implication. He'd return to his misgivings about what might happen should Joxt and Moomin meet soon at another occasion, preferably about three seconds before it was about to occur. Joxt learned a lot more about him in such a short acquaintance than most did in much longer, those two would have quite an interesting conversation. He already dreaded the very thought of their amusement at his expense, though maybe part of him was looking forward to it as well.

"We can go whenever you like," he answered. Midwinter had come and gone while they stayed here, so while they might still encounter some traces of frost on their way back Snufkin was confident that the worst of the season would be over with. Leaving earlier only meant they would arrive in the valley earlier, and he didn't think any of his friends would complain about that.

Joxt thought about it for a moment. There was unparalleled deepness in his eyes, some abyss of trepidation mirrored in the downward pull of his brows. Snufkin did not capture it – the expression did not remain long enough for him to grasp. Soon, Joxt gestured then. First river, then leave.

Snufkin swallowed away the sudden surge of unease capturing his heart again at the prospect of going back. If it held importance for Joxt, it could hold importance for him. At least that is what he convinced himself of.

"If you'd like."

The water did not flow as fast as it did before.

Wherever the source was - much higher up in the mountains probably - must be experiencing a drought due to the freezing temperatures. When they had first seen it, it had seemed a torrent to Snufkin, carrying off debris and memory in equal measure. He did not know why he disliked the water, he just knew he did.

But now it was just a gentle brook making soft noises at them from down below, sweeping away the odd leave or branch but not any harm to them. Joxt did the same thing he had done when they were here previously, digging in the pebbles and earth in hunt for something intangible and precious.

The longer Snufkin watched this, the more it dawned on him that what Joxt was searching for might not have a physical form at all. He had gleaned the riverbed to be the source of some anguish for his friend – possibly even to do with his lost aeons spent in captivity. The vehemence in which Joxt searched for it might just be the only way he knew how to.

This might not be a quest that could ever be brought to a successful end.

"What are you looking for?" he asked, putting his hand on Joxt's shoulder. The man did not bristle under his touch but tensed in a manner he had not done for ages now. As if Snufkin's very presence could tear into him. The river brought out something vulnerable and guarded in him. "I might be able to help you."

Don't know, Joxt signed dejectedly, as if ashamed for even having to admit as much. Important.

And how he stressed that final word was entirely new for the both of them.

Joxt, who had never put much effort into anything except fill his belly and find the most snug places to curl up at to fall asleep was currently staring at him with the loss of what could only be ascribed to be more cherished to him than life itself.

The strangest part had to be how Snufkin didn't even understand how he could name this. He rubbed his brow, suddenly aware of the pounding aching of his head. One who does not dwell on the past does not worry about forgetting things. Why start now?

"If you don't know yourself then I don't know how you can expect me to help you find it," he said plainly, barely recognizing the sharpness in his own tone of voice. Perhaps the river had pulled something out of him as well.

He knew it was a mistake as soon as the words left his mouth though. Joxt did not make any movement to indicate how the statement had struck him, but Snufkin could feel it. They had become attuned to each other in such bizarre fashion during their travel, always in close propinquity. He thought he had come to know Joxt quite well, but not accounted for still being wrong in some aspects.

So he had misjudged desperation for disregard. Even if Snufkin could never share the urgency this held within Joxt's mind, he could recognize the sorrow that would come from having to let it go.

"I'm sorry." Dropping his hand from Joxt's shoulder, he sat down next to him instead, so they were on the same eye level. "I did not mean to dismiss this. But it might be better if-"

Joxt turned around mid-sentence, facing him. The brightness of his irises had none of the fire in them Snufkin knew so well. Curling his hand around Snufkin's wrist to interrupt him, he held on even after receiving a small nod from Snufkin encouraging him to say what he wanted to say.

Did you lose important?

The meaning of the question was harder to impart with Joxt's limited way of communicating, but Snufkin knew exactly what he wanted to know. He swallowed the instant denial stuck in his chest, the instinct to lie for emotional self-preservation.

As woeful as it was, there were certain secrets he had not divulged even to Moomin or anybody else really. There were whispers he kept contained to the dead of night, carving away at the thought that letting them out might be too cruel on himself. He could not go back and change the flow of the past so it did nothing to burn your hands on flames long since smothered.

"I don't... know," he lied. It did not escape him as the pale echo of what Joxt had said mere minutes before.

Joxt was still holding onto his wrist, his fingertips resting above his pulse and Snufkin knew he could tell he wasn't being truthful just by how it had quickened.

He remembered the girl in the orphanage. She was human, but was abandoned for being considered fae by her parents when she did not grow up talking and playing as the other kids of her village did. Such was the cruelty of humans. In the yard of that house, wooden and dark and falling apart in the elements, she had taught Snufkin her words as best she could. If you lied, she could always tell and she pulled her small nose up as if she was smelling something sour and stuck out her tongue.

Her eyes were green like the leaves of summer trees.

She had been so convinced her parents would come and find her again. Would realize their mistake in giving her away and come back for the daughter they had so heartlessly cast off for being unalike. Her stories were filled with warmth and sunlight, about the bed she used to sleep in, the dinners her mother had used to make for her, and a collection of dolls with bright red dresses waiting for her at home.

Snufkin did not think back then that he even had parents.

He must have been small enough to fit into the arms of an adult when he was found, small enough to disappear into the folds of his blanket. They must not have kept him long at all. Floated off in a basket on the wild waters, found on the side of a waterway. These were only stories he was told, he had no recollection.

"I don't know," he repeated with more conviction and Joxt blinked at him curiously. "You can't lose something you did not hold in the first place. But I did search for that which could not be found for a long while. Or maybe that which I was searching for simply did not want to be found by me."

Always it had crept back in, that maybe he was not lost. Maybe he was just as the girl, deserted for a measure he was too young to comprehend. Such wise words, they could probably go in one of Moominpappa's novels.

By the way Joxt tilted his head he could tell maybe they had been too vague for him to get also. Snufkin himself wasn't even sure what he was saying anymore. He had left the orphanage when he was still young, climbed through an open window with not much more than a handful of mementos and food for a few day's journey. He had explored the world and sought his parents and when he could not find them he had continued to travel for the sake of it, for the sake of himself.

Then he had found another place to call home.

But presuming that this would be the solution for Joxt had been his flaw. Thinking he could so callously dismiss Joxt's misfortune and tell him to let go of something so vital to his very being was wrong. In truth, Snufkin wanted not for Joxt to do what he did. Give up and forget anything had pained him at all.

Joxt had to keep searching. And Snufkin would be at his side to do so.

"I will help you in any way I can," he promised. "We'll do it together, alright? We'll return to the valley and then we'll figure it out. My friends can aid as well. Your memories will return someday and then we can go searching again. I won't leave until you chase me away."

Joxt nodded. He pulled at Snufkin's wrist and pressed his palm against his chest through the thin fabric. Snufkin felt the rapid heartbeat running beneath Joxt's skin, the shallow vibration of every inhale. It was an instrument all his own, bleeding restlessness. When Joxt let go of him, Snufkin did not move his hand away.

Scared, Joxt said. Scared I don't find.

"I know. But I'm here now."

Snufkin did not have the strength at that moment to confess that just as with so many other things about Joxt, his very heartbeat felt familiar to him too. As if maybe he had been searching for it just as long.

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