"Snufkin? Do you hear me? Snufkin?"

Whoever that voice belonged to, Snufkin wished him to shut up. His ears rang and he had a nasty headache. Where was he? What happened? He blinked several times and his vision cleared, to reveal the inspector leaning over him. Ah, the interrogation room. His feet were raised up against a chair. He remembered. The inspector's eyes appeared even bigger than usually and he was leaning so close that if Snufkin was to try to rise, he would bump into the huge nose.

"Snufkin? Finally! You gave me quite a fright! How do you feel? You just fell out of your chair!"

The inspector's voice was like an echo to Snufkin. His ears didn't stop ringing.

"I'm…" He began, without knowing how to continue. He hadn't had time to feel yet. "My head hurts", he added after a moment's thought.

"Yeah… I couldn't catch you before you hit the floor. I'm sorry."

"It's alright", said Snufkin, though his head was pounding. The ringing however, was fading at last. "But I think I might have a concussion."

"Oh. Well, there is a room with a sofa just behind that door", the inspector pointed towards the door behind the desk. "If you'd like to lie down for a bit?"

"Yes, please. Just… give me a moment."

The inspector waited patiently while Snufkin gathered enough strength to rise. Slowly, and with help from the inspector, he managed to get back on his feet and hobble all the way to the other room. It was as grey as ever, yet it took Snufkin by surprise. It was without doubt the most comfortable room he had ever come across inside the prison. In its centre there was a wooden table surrounded by a couple of wooden chairs. Against one wall was a sofa and against the opposite one, a stove. Altogether it looked like one of those rooms where the staff took their coffee breaks. Gratefully, Snufkin lay down on the sofa and placed his feet upon the armrest. To his luck, there was even a small, dusty pillow for his aching head. It was such a relief to lie down that he felt as if he should never want to get up again. Why couldn't they simply let him stay in this room with the sofa and the stove? He could only imagine the lovely, amazing heat it must release when somebody used it. Suddenly he wished the inspector would make himself some more tea. But the hemulen simply stood there, fidgeting nervously while watching him carefully. Snufkin took a deep breath. The recorder was left in the interrogation room and he thought he remembered something about the inspector saying "a break", but he wasn't certain. Anyway, despite this "incident" or what one may call it, they hadn't got any time to lose. They had to go on with the interrogation.

"Shall I fetch you a glass of water?" asked the inspector.

"Yes, that would be very kind, if you please."

The inspector went and filled a small glass by the sink. He handed it to Snufkin, who took it gratefully. The water felt refreshingly cool in his mouth.

"Thank you", he offered between the sips.

"It's nothing."

Snufkin didn't know where to put the half-finished glass so he let it be in his right hand, resting by his side on the sofa.

"Well", he sighed. "I'm sorry about this. I guess you can't move that recorder in here?"

"I said we are taking a break", the inspector objected, but he didn't come off nearly as authoritative as he tried to be. He unceremoniously slumped down into one of the wooden chairs.

"Besides", he went on. "I think you have already told me enough. I shall present the recordings to the higher officers of River Town. I think there is a lot to discuss about their methods, I am afraid. Also, I really think you should see a doctor. I will try and arrange that too."

But Snufkin didn't hear the last part, for he had finally succumbed to a much needed sleep.

"It's pointless! It's not here! It's nowhere!"

The piercing voice of Little My echoed from somewhere behind the trees. Moomin was just about to dive into what was probably the hundreth bush that day. His soft, white paws were covered in brown and black dirt and part of him agreed wholeheartedly with Little My's words. But he wouldn't admit it, so he kept looking. They both did, although most of the day had already passed and they were getting tired.

Throughout the entire day they had searched for Snufkin's hat. That grumpy inspector had said it was left in the forest when Snufkin was taken, and he had also told them the approximate direction. Still, there was no sign of the hat. And maybe it was no wonder. Over a month had passed. Anything could happen to a hat during that time. Perhaps another creature took it and decided to use it for a tent? Or, of course, it could have simply blown away.

"Not helping that its green either!" cried Little My. "When we find it, I swear I'm going to paint it red and yellow like a warning sign! At least then it'll stand out!"

"Yeah, I'm sure Snufkin would appreciate that…" Moomin muttered in response. The branches poked at his big nose and leaves got stuck in his fur. No hat in this bush. He sighed. That hat would truly be a loss for Snufkin if they didn't find it. He huffed at the absurd idea of buying a new one. His vagabond friend would rather go hatless. But Moomin didn't want him to. Though they would have to stop looking soon, for the darkness was settling in and would absorb the woods. Moomin turned around and gazed in the direction of their camp while wondering whether he should go and fetch a lantern?

"Hey! Look!" Little My pointed towards a clearing near the outer ends of the forest. Moomin looked and as the darkness hadn't yet reached the point of pitch blackness, he saw clearly the small creature moving around before them. It bore a striking similarity to that of Sniff, he noted.

"Hello?" he cried and the creature jumped. It stared wide-eyed in their direction, at once on full alert like a frightened deer.

"Oh, I'm sorry", Moomin added quickly, his voice gentle. "I didn't mean to scare you. It's just that we're looking for a large green hat that was lost here in the forest. You don't happen to have seen it, have you?"

"A- a large green hat?" the creature stuttered.

"Yes, a large green hat", repeated Little My without even trying to hide her annoyance. "We've been looking all day."

"I see. Is it… is it pointed, like a witch's?"

"Yes, yes!" cried Moomin. "Did you find it?"

"Yes, a week ago or so. But why? What do you want with it?"

"That's my brother's hat!" cried Little My. "And we want to give it back to him! Now, where is it?"

She bared her teeth and the poor creature took a step back. Moomin shot the mymble a warning glare.

"Don't mind her, please", he said. "We're both awfully tired. Though that hat is very precious to our friend. You don't know where it is now?"

"Yes, of course I do! I took it back home. I wished, like you, to give it back to its owner if I ran into him again. But unfortunately I didn't."

Upon hearing this, Moomin and Little My both gasped in chorus.

"Wait, you mean you've met Snufkin?" Moomin could hardly believe his ears. If this creature in front of him had met Snufkin before he was captured, then he might perhaps know a bit of what happened.

But all of sudden, the creature put on a look of suspicion.

"I did, but I got the strong impression that he didn't know anyone in town."

"He doesn't", said Little My. "We traveled here from Moominvalley as soon as we knew something went wrong at some garden party and he was put into prison!"

"Oh, dear!" The suspicion on the creature's face vanished as quickly as it had appeared. "Well, there was quite a disaster, to be honest! What, with the fire and everything! The garden was all burnt down to ashes! Though I had hoped in my heart that your friend got away. He seemed so nice… I spotted him briefly as he climbed over the fence, but that's the last I ever saw of him. Oh, to think that he was thrown behind bars…" The creature shook its head sadly. "But what are we standing here for? Come, and I'll give you the hat back!"

Moomin and Little My were all too happy to follow. As they walked along the more-or-less empty streets, the creature told them the full story of how he had first met Snufkin on that fateful day; how the mumrik had been so helpful and carried his things half across town and how it had been him, the creature, who had told Snufkin about the party to begin with.

"Did you see what happened? At the party?" Moomin asked.

The creature shook his head while staring at its feet.

"I'm afraid not. Everything was in order one second and then… out of nowhere there was a ruckus and the guards were hunting your friend through the crowd. Then there were flames! I guess that a cresset must have been pulled over, for people were screaming and fleeing the place and in the midst of this chaos, I saw your friend climb the fence while a guard shouted at him."

They came to a stop in front of a bakery. The air outside was yet filled with the wonderful smell of freshly baked bread and sweet pastry. The creature pointed up.

"I live on the top floor", he said. It was a three store building. "You wait here while I go in and get it. I wouldn't want to wake my family. They make such a mess when they're woken up for nothing, you see."

With those words the creature slipped inside as quiet as such a clumsy creature could, leaving Moomin and Little My to their own devices on the street. Moomin gazed out over the town that was now about to fall asleep. Candles and lanterns could be seen in the windows and somewhere a mother sang a soft lullaby. There was a thin fog sweeping through the otherwise gentle night air. The sky above them held stars and wherever they went in this city, they never ceased to hear the forever running stream of the river that defined the place.

"This is beautiful", he whispered, mostly to himself, but Little My heard him nonetheless.

"Yeah. It's a shame though, that the only thing we'll ever associate it with is Snufkin's suffering."

"You're right."

The door opened and the creature smiled broadly as he handed over Snufkin's green old hat and two paper bags. At their questioning looks, he told them:

"These are some of today's pastries and buns. Please take them. I hope they'll be enough for your family and if we're lucky, Snufkin will be able to taste them as well. Send him my best, and", he stepped out of the door. "If I can help you in any way while you're still here, just come and knock on this door and ask for 'Spillers'. That's what they call me."

Moomin thanked him over and over. Little My took the bags in her small paws and peeked inside.
"Hey, Moomin! These look delicious!"

"They are, I promise", Spillers said, proudly raising his chin a bit.

They said goodbye to Spillers and walked back to the camp. All the while Moomin hugged the hat close to his chest. He nuzzled into it. Snufkin had worn it for so long that the smell of his tobacco had stuck in the old fabric, despite him being apart from the item for so long. It was almost like meeting Snufkin again, or part of him, after the long winter. Moomin couldn't wait to put the hat back upon its owner's head. It was unfair, he thought, that he hadn't been allowed to see Snufkin yet. So he hugged the hat even closer, nearly causing new wrinkles to form on it. Snufkin wouldn't mind, he was sure. Little My walked by his side, pretending not to see the strong emotions that his face betrayed.

The first thing Snufkin felt when he woke up was disorientation. All around him it was black, as the inside of a bear cave and against all reason, he panicked. Where was he? Well, he couldn't possibly be outside the prison, but where was he? Where was he?

As his breaths shortened and his eyes shot wide open in a desperate attempt to see, he also began flailing, trying to get a sense of his surroundings. In doing so, he rolled over an edge appearing from nowhere and fell hard upon a floor. The world spun and he remembered the probable concussion. He felt sick and didn't dare to move because he didn't know if he would find an available bin in this overwhelming blackness. But then it dawned on him; as he lay there his eyes adjusted somewhat to the dark and he could make out certain, recognizable shapes of furniture.

He was back in his cell. That realization alone was almost enough to make him cry. It had felt so wonderful to lie down on the sofa behind the interrogation room. It had felt so wonderful to see that stove and a coffee pot. The next second he felt pathetic for thinking like that. What had he come to, when the absence of a sofa would cause him to weep?
What if he never got out? When he first entered the interrogation room and met the Moominvalley inspector, he had felt such a glimmer of hope. But now, here in the cold cell, alone and sick, he wondered if there had been anything to it at all. Maybe the other inspector had told him no and the Moomin family were now on their way back to Moominvalley already? A small part of him started to think that perhaps the entire interrogation had been a dream and that in reality he had been in his cell the whole time. He shook his head, which he regretted at once as it set the world spinning again. Couldn't think like that. Couldn't afford losing his sanity, on top of everything.

In the fall he had managed to drag the blankets along with him. They were curled around his legs and since Snufkin didn't want to risk throwing up, he didn't rise. Instead he carefully pulled the blankets around himself and curled up on the floor. For safety's sake, he lay on his side in recovery position.