Last week's chapter was delayed due to Nanowrimo, but I hope I make up for it with this one ;) thanks for reading

It was in the early hours of the morning that he realized they were being followed.

Tension raised the hairs on the back of his neck, made his nerves stand on end. Faint traces of smoke and embers drifted on the breeze, carried the scent of their musk towards him. They were far away, not close enough for him to feel acutely threatened by their presence. But as they moved, their scent lingered, moving neither further away nor closer towards them, remaining at the same general distance.

This told him they were following in their footsteps.

He did not speak this out loud, or even tried to give any indication to the boy as to what was happening or might occur. To some degree, this had to do with him not feeling nearly as intimated at their presence as he would have expected. What weeks ago still instilled fear in his heart – a creeping of dread crawling so heavily and sluggish up his throat that he could choke on it – was not as harrowing a thought anymore.

Perhaps a part of him was looking forward to it. Was looking forward to facing them without the element of surprise on their side or the fear of losing what could not be replaced. Things would be different this time.

But that didn't mean the thought didn't cross his mind to send the boy off ahead. Keep him safe. Above all else, he did not want him to get hurt by his own folly, or least of all by them.

The boy had bravery in his heart, though. Selflessness that ran deep as blood. He had not met another who would embrace others as such. And he knew the boy would refuse to go if he knew what was going on, and pry the answers out of him if he didn't.

He did not want the boy to go either.

The danger facing them – stalking along their shadows – would be faced together.

Joxt must have thought he was an idiot.

Either that or he might think Snufkin was too unaware to notice the shift in his mood. He was doing his best to hide it, but he wasn't very good at it. Their journey was drawing ever closer to its end, the valley no longer a mere mirage in the distance but a tangible goal close enough they could feel it beneath their fingertips. The sun was peeking through the clouds stronger each day, the clouds rained down on them more frequently but with lighter pours.

They would sit beneath the trees, the newly sprouted oak leaves hardly enough to cover them from the cool end-of-winter showers. Mildew on the grass greeted them each morning, forming a glistening trail for them to follow. Spring was a handful of days away, and they were just as many away from the valley.

"Are you nervous?" Snufkin asked Joxt. "I'm not used to you being this high strung." Because that is the only reason he could think of why the other could be acting like this. He assumed it was only natural, Snufkin wasn't fond of meeting strangers himself.

And while he was sure nothing bad would happen, he couldn't deny he himself was curious what would become of it.

Joxt was not the strangest person to ever visit the valley – not by a long shot. The Moomin family was prone to welcoming anybody into their midst, no matter where they came from or who they were. But with the volatile way Joxt could react to things, Snufkin halfway feared he wouldn't adjust as well as he was hoping.

Nervous what for? Joxt asked him, though there was no angled eyebrow or other indication he was waiting for an answer. He seemed entirely preoccupied and Snufkin bit his lip.

"Meeting the others."

This did make Joxt turn his head. Snufkin was befallen once again with the strongest perception that over time, this man had changed so much from the person he met in the forest into somebody entirely different. Yet stronger still was the impression that he had become more familiar with time.

Which was only an evident evolution Snufkin supposed, but there was something about that which he could not put his finger on.

Friends. Joxt pointed at him.

"They're my friends, yes." Snufkin wasn't sure where he was going with this.

Your friends, my friends. Joxt gave him a thin smile, but it was obviously plastered on with deliberate effort. Whatever was causing him to worry was still present, though the underlying words perhaps surprised Snufkin even more.

Joxt was essentially saying that his trust in Snufkin ran deep enough now that he would consider his judgment final. Coming from someone with considerable trust issues, Snufkin knew he had to be flattered. He still wished he knew what else was upsetting Joxt then.

The sun was still not halfway on its descent but still he hesitated. "If you want we can rest now," he pressed. While he had to adjust to Joxt's natural disposition with time and had become well acquainted with what it took to get him to move faster, Snufkin didn't want to worsen the unknown. Maybe it was a wound aching him still?

But Joxt shook his head in answer, decisiveness made clear through his facial expression. Not here. He was barely able to throw the gestures over his shoulders as he kept walking.

For the first time since their meeting, Snufkin had to hurry to catch up. "What do you mean not here?" Ignoring him, Joxt did not stop nor slow down his stride.

It was alarming in every which way. Snufkin could feel the storm coming but had no grasp on what it would entail, beyond it being harrowing. He knew something was wrong when Joxt froze without warning, turning his face upward as if scenting the wind.

Then the proverbial clouds broke.

The sound that rang out through the forest could best be described as a high-pitched whistle. The note sent a flurry of birds from a nearby tree, wings flapping frantically to get away. Snufkin saw the way it made Joxt's breath hitch, the instant shifting of his pose into defensiveness.

He wasn't sure why but the sound had a similar effect on himself. Despite it not having an intricate meaning to him, it felt threatening in its very presence.

"What-" The words had hardly been allowed to escape his mouth when the rustle of leaves alerted them to hurried footsteps and something much faster moving towards them. Snufkin's sensitive hearing picked up on it a moment after Joxt, shoulder squared back waiting for impact. Casting his eyes around desperately, Snufkin had no clue as to what was approaching them.

Until it quite literally came barreling into them.

Or into Joxt more accurately. Snufkin felt the other man's hands against his shoulder for a split second, the warmth brushing against the exposed patch of skin between his scarf and then he was pitched forward, barely able to catch himself from falling onto his face and rolling onto his shoulder instead.

Joxt had pushed him out of the path of the impact. What had charged at them flew into him at full force, throwing him onto his back, and then there was the sound of growling – both Joxt's own and that of the thing which had jumped on him.

Snufkin needed a blatant moment to realize it was a large dog.

Its sharp canines had dug into the bare flesh between Joxt's wrist and arm, teeth grinding against bone but unable to tear off. Joxt had his fingers tangled in the animal's fur, a tight grasp around its neck the only thing keeping its jaw from snapping shut repeatedly. The hurried footsteps were still closing in.

With no idea what was going on besides a profound knowledge that it was terribly bad, Snufkin pushed himself up onto his knees again. The fall had startled him into paralysis at first, but Joxt's pained grunt when the dog bit into him harder snapped him out of it. Feeling nothing beyond incredible fear and confusion, Snufkin's hand curled around the nearest thing he could find.

Bringing the branch up above his head – not dissimilar to how Joxt had done it in the orchard – Snufkin put all his strength into bringing it down in a clean sideways arch. He hit the dog in the midriff, eliciting a loud yelp from it that made him feel quite guilty, though not guilty enough to entirely regret his actions. Especially as he saw Joxt curled up underneath, blood dripping from the gash on his arm and onto his face, expression contorted in equal measures of pain and anger.

The dog had been quick to jump off when Snufkin hit it, slinking into the bushes and towards those footsteps with a low whine. Any second now they would be upon them, and Snufkin's fingers curled around Joxt's uninjured wrist automatically, trying to get him up in time.

It was a fruitless effort.

The man that stepped out of the undergrowth was cast in shadows, making it hard to discern his shape in the forming twilight. Jumping around his legs, the dog was nipping at his heels playfully, though the smack had clearly left it more subdued than before and not eager to try for another round. Joxt had made it onto his knees by now and just like weeks ago, pulled Snufkin behind himself as if guided by natural instinct. The growl that was coming out of his throat was much louder and more guttural than before.

Snufkin had a vivid image in his mind of the men who approached them outside the village; how the cruel detachment in their eyes had sent vileness down his throat. He had thought that as far as humans were concerned, those men must have been the worst of the worst, a singular exemption.

Looking into the pale grey eyes before him, it was clear he had been wrong.

With a snap of his fingers, the dog quieted down - indicating it to be a well-trained animal. Snufkin realized the whistle they heard earlier must have also been a signal and the implication only made his gut clench tighter. Joxt's hold on him grew firmer, clutching against his arm. He was shaking.

"Can't say I was expecting you to come back through after all this time," the man said. His voice had a sharp edge to it, a wickedness which made Snufkin bite the inside of his cheek to keep quiet. "But then, perhaps I should have. A good runt always returns to its masters."

The words drew out another noise from Joxt, short-lived. The silent murderous energy radiating off him in waves could not be understood by Snufkin at any other time, but as he looked at the man standing in front of him, it was odd to know he did understand.

A length of sturdy rope hung from the man's hip, looping in on itself. His hunting boots were caked in dirt and the hilt of a dagger peeked out from the side of his belt. With small whines the dog idled around his feet, nearly worked into a frenzy by the smell of Joxt's blood on the evening air but waiting steadily for another command. A hunter.

There was no doubt about it. This was one of the humans who had done to Joxt all the things Snufkin dare not think of.

Cursing his own stupidity, Snufkin could feel the breath he was holding burn in his lungs – refusing to be exhaled at a normal rate. He had not for a moment considered that passing through the same area he had at the start of autumn – the same area where he found Joxt – would mean passing through the territory these humans called their own. How was he to know they would still be here, would still be resentful? Or even that they would find them to begin with?

"And you even brought me a little gift." The man's bleached eyes landed on Snufkin, holding nothing but cruel intentions. The smile on that face revealed just a little too much teeth, the lines etched into his forehead distorted by the force of his grin.

Joxt sprung into motion. His legs pushed off in one great effort, the force of it nearly sending Snufkin sprawling again since he was leaning against Joxt's body a moment prior. The movement was too fast to catch properly, yet when Joxt stilled he was crouching on nothing, the man having sidestepped his attack with ease.

"I'm guessing you're still cross with us about the child." His laugh rang out in the forest like church bells. Another short whistle and the dog barked in delight at being told what to do. It sprinted off into the growing darkness. "But we can make it up to you both. I'm sure they'll love to see you again. They missed playing."

Confusion at the first statement was pushed to the back of Snufkin's mind as he registered the second. The human worked with others, and those others would be called here by the dog in a matter of minutes at most. Smart enough to know he would not be able to win against an enraged Joxt on his own, he had called for them to increase his odds.

The same thought must have sunk into Joxt's mind. His arm shot out but was caught around the wrist before it could make contact. Landing his own fist in the underside of Joxt's stomach, the man watched him double over, then took advantage of the angle to knee Joxt in the face.

Blood started pouring out of his nose immediately, but Joxt seemed not to notice as he tried to recover from the blow quickly enough to anticipate the next. Snufkin had stood there rooted to the ground watching the mayhem unfold, but with the shock and disorientation slowly ebbing away it was replaced with a much more powerful fervor. The man was reaching for his knife.

Snufkin was worried for Joxt's well-being.

He was spurred into motion without consideration, his feet moving without his consent or proper planning. Transfixed on the man who had turned his back towards him. Maybe it had been Joxt shielding him with his body which had convinced the human Snufkin would not pose a threat, maybe it had been Joxt's aimless anger which had diverted his attention.

Either way, Snufkin knew he could use it to his advantage.

The stick was still in his hand, the uneven surface of the branch digging into his fist unpleasantly. Snufkin couldn't even say why he hadn't let go of it. The dog had been a much smaller target, but the strength he put behind the strike was that much greater. With a thud that reminded Snufkin oddly of when Moominmamma would pop corn kernels over the fire pit in summer, the man's knees buckled under him and he fell to the ground. Red splashed against the few green sprouts of spring grass starting to force their way through the hardened earth.

Joxt fell too and Snufkin thought he must be gravely hurt. But then he saw the way Joxt lowered himself, knees braced on either side of the man, leaning over him. Intentionally. His hands reached out, slow and deliberate and Snufkin could see every scar along the tainted skin.

Wrapping his claws around the man's throat, Joxt started to squeeze.

The man's eyes flew open, though the hit had left him half-dazed still. He had enough presence of mind left to struggle against the fingers pressing bruises into his skin, robbing the air from his lungs. Joxt pushed down harder, hard enough to draw blood. Snufkin stood there and watched it happen.

The sound of the dog returning snapped him out of it. He grabbed hold of Joxt's shoulder, swallowing away his apprehension over the tension in his muscles, the strain with which Joxt was forcing this human's airway shut.

The unemotion with which he was going about it.

"Joxt, we need to get out of here." Doing his best to sound urgent yet calm – a balancing act that made little sense – Snufkin pulled at him softly. "Please."

Joxt didn't react, pushing harder, bearing down. It rumbled in his chest, but when the man stopped moving he let go. Joxt sat there for a moment as if he wanted to make sure. The human's eyes were wide open, nearly escaping his sockets and his face was pale and morbid. Snufkin knew he would carry the sight with him for a long time.

The dog let out a short bark, much too close for comfort and they ran.

Fear seized Snufkin's throat, a hundredfold worse than all those times he had been chased by the park keeper. Joxt was pulling at his sleeve, redirecting him to the river and when they finally came upon the swirling water he realized why.

Their scent would be easily washed away by the stream, strengthened by the mountain's melting snowcaps. If they could cross it, the dog would lose their trail and so would the other humans.

Joxt was already ankle-deep into the water, waiting for Snufkin to join him. Inhaling deeply so he could steel himself against the icy cold, Snufkin stepped in as well. The flow was a lot stronger than he expected and he tried to make it quick but had to be careful not to be carried away. Joxt kept looking over his shoulder anxiously, but there were no more sounds of pursuit behind them.

Snufkin was just about to point this out when he felt himself slip on one of the smooth stones embed into the riverbank. Expecting the shattering experience of mountain water rushing over him, Snufkin inhaled sharply. But instead, it was Joxt who kept him upright, pulled him against his chest, and dragged him to the other side of the river.

Relief flooded Snufkin's awareness, feeling a similar sentiment coming from Joxt though they didn't have time to say as much while still in view of the opposite bank. They hastily made their way deeper into the forest, until the trees and shrubbery would conceal them and they were both tuckered out, but safe.

Something pulled at him. Not physically, but in the constriction of his chest cavity. Snufkin sank down on the ground exhausted, not sure his legs could support him any longer. Joxt did the same, their bodies near enough to touch, Joxt's hand sprawled protectively against the top of Snufkin's hair.

What had been lost had been refound, but the knowledge wasn't there yet. It simply simmered inches beneath Snufkin's consciousness. Maybe tomorrow he could put it into reason.

For a much bigger mystery was plaguing his mind.

"W-why-" It was hard to gasp out between labored breathing, tasting the empty hollow on his tongue. Snufkin wasn't sure he was ready to know the answer, but if he didn't ask he'd never know. "Why did you kill him?"

The stars formed a tapestry far above them, inky black with dots of thread woven through. Joxt didn't do anything for a while, Snufkin not having noticed that he couldn't see his hands so he wouldn't even be able to tell the sign language. He only felt those fingers covered with blood curled into his hair, patting absentmindedly as if Joxt needed to reassure himself of Snufkin's very presence.

The river seemed louder than ever all of the sudden.

With a harsh cough, Joxt used his voice to speak.

"He deserved it." His deep tenor tilted roughly with disuse and pain. "He deserved to die."

Snufkin could not argue whether that was true. He closed his eyes to the sound of that voice and nothing more.

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