Child of the Wilderness

@snufkxn-blog / snufkxn-blog.tumblr.com

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He was left staring in the interim as he awaited a response, and as he did, he wondered if he had even been understood at all. It was difficult to tell, but luckily at least it seemed he hadn’t frightened the man away in drawing attention to himself. When he approached, the giant couldn’t help but to shy away a bit by way of leaning back, but he did not scoot back, nor did he stand and back away. That was a good thing. So, when the man (or so Ingvar thought he was) spoke thanks and introduced himself as Snufkin, Ingvar looked quite visibly relieved. Maybe he even smiled a little.
The other’s voice was strangely soothing. It made sense to him that it belonged to the same person who had played such beautiful music, in a strange sort of way. He hesitated as he thought of a response.
Ingvar was going to say, ‘Thank you, sir’, but then he was told not to, so he decided it best not to. “Thank you, Snufkin.” he said with a bow of his head. “It very nice to be meeting you. Er…” he paused a moment. Who was he? A brilliant question, really. “Well, um… My name is… Ingvar, if that what you is asking of me.”

::『』learn тo вe lonely ::

He waits patiently, paying little mind to the broken words or obvious shyness. The giant seemed almost self-conscious, as if he hadn’t expected company at all. Such an odd temperament for a being so large, yet his curiosity pressed him not to make assumptions. Clearly, Ingvar would be showing him everything the stories did not. Just the thought had his attention trained on him, chin tilted up to not shy away.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Ingvar.”

The name is a bit tricky on his tongue, the same sort of way unfamiliar bars were before being woven into a song proper. Cheery at the start and turning over into something a bit more solemn, a solid name if nothing else. He can’t help but be a bit amused at the confusion over his question, before tilting his hat back a bit more with one hand.

“Might I ask how you came to be in Moomin Valley?”

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His question is almost eager; an unusual sight on someone who preferred to be in silence quite as much as Snufkin did. Yet, this was so new and curious! Surely no one could blame him for his curiosity, and he still felt somewhat elated to discover someone who enjoyed his music without requesting it. People were often charmed by his songs, but rarely did he meet those who appreciated them simply for being what they were.

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Little Stowaway

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    His voice is as cold as the winter breeze, a stark contrast to when he was in the valley during the summertime where his demeanor was warm and inviting whether it inconvenienced him or not. Should one not know both of the siblings, it was easy to think of Snufkin as the big brother figure to everyone in the valley. But not now, not out here, and My knew he didn’t like the idea of anyone joining him in his travels South but her stubbornness and curiosity got her going and she just felt that in the long-run he would deal with it and learn that she was no threat to his travels.
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“Well I am here,” she spoke in a voice that was insistent, but not teasingly so.
Knowing he wasn’t in any mood to invite her over himself, Little My ran up to join her brother by the fire as a breeze raised goosebumps on her arms. She got herself cozy by the fire, her paws facing the flame and occasionally rubbing against each other as she quietly warmed herself from the cold shoulder she was receiving.
“I wanted to see it too, and you are always on your way out this time of year I thought I’d do something new this winter and stowaway with you. I can help you hunt and fish too, so we don’t gotta worry about food.”

::『』learn тo вe lonely ::

   There is a token attempt made not to click his tongue in response     to her words, but annoyance grinds itself deep into his muscles and     he doesn’t wish to avert what seems to be inevitable with words.     Stashing the matchbox in his pocket as opposed to returning to his     bag, he folds his hands stiffly in his lap and stares at the rise and fall     of the flames. He would have appreciated being asked, but My’s often     didn’t listen to anyone but themselves. And that usually admirable quality     had all too quickly soured on him, pulling his mouth down into a steep frown.     Whether she was useful or not, didn’t change that she had invaded on his     solitude during the single season which he refused to be amicable to company.     All the rest of the year, under the warm sun and clear sky, he freely spent his     time with everyone in the Valley. And it was beautiful and joyous, he wouldn’t     deny it. But, winter’s chill has a habit of stealing the warmth from everything;     himself included.

    More than his annoyance at her invasion of his yearly trip, there’s the cold     sensation that skims along his spine that edges on something like fear. There     were reasons he avoided contact in the colder months, feeling everything grating     on him in a way it never did in summer nor the freshness of spring. Annoyance     came easier, and anger could be triggered by anything it seemed. Another person     was inconvenient; concerning. Levelling his gaze and turning his head only     somewhat to peer at her, he knows bitterly that she’s gotten them into a right fix.

    “Hm.”

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    To admit that to her, however, was not something he wished to do. Not for lack of     trust, but his own personal preference. Little My needn’t be burdened by his own     troubles, as far as anyone was concerned he didn’t have any. And Snufkin rather     appreciated that assumption; it allowed him to handle things himself, in his own     way. In the best way he’s found that doesn’t involve another person. A few     moments pass between them in silence, before he’s rising to his feet and pulling     the tin kettle and a small tub of coffee from his pack. Moominmama had been kind     enough to offer him some a few days prior to his setting out, a gesture he’d     appreciated despite his rapidly increasing need to be away.

    He sets it aside and picks up his tin bucket instead, crossing the distance to fetch     water from the stream nearby and return to begin setting up. Conversation would     be hard won, if My wanted it at all. Her expression certainly seemed stormier than     usual. And Snufkin admittedly felt similar. He didn’t want this at all. But, that didn’t     seem to hold much sway now that they were already in such a situation.

    “You won’t do it again.”

    What would normally have come out gentle, as a chiding question, comes out of     him as a low order; not giving her room for discussion or even to plead her case.     She was not going to sneak into his bag a second time, and both of them knew     that he would be much more vigilant in the future. He convinces himself it’s not     too much of a break of character for My to be pestering him further; even if a     mild anxiety clings to his back against his will.

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“OH!!” 
She should’ve seen that coming. It wasn’t like she wasn’t provoking some sort of argument with all of them meeting like this, but hardly did she expect the cool and calm demeanor’d Snufkin to pull a punch on…anyone really. She wasn’t gonna step in the middle of this, mostly out of curiosity and awe over what would happen next.
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He’s not knocked clean off his feet, but with his hands in his pockets, he can’t do anything to catch himself until his back is against the boulder he’d been napping on not five minutes ago. His hands come out of his pockets and one reaches up to touch his nose- Ah, he’s bleeding, would you look at that.
He blinks a few times, and a near feral grin spreads across his face. The grin is the only warning anyone gets before he springs, tackling Snufkin into the sand with every intention of beating the daylights out of his son.

::『』learn тo вe lonely ::

   The grin sets his lips parting faintly with teeth of his own, though more     in a snarl than a mocking imitation of his father’s. At least until hands     make contact with his tunic, the curve of claws catching the fabric as     they both fall to the sand; the impact pulling a choked noise from him.     Which he stubbornly forces into a growl. It’s not the first time he’s fought,     heels digging into the ground to try and get a knee under Joxter and toss     him off. If there was one thing Snufkin didn’t want, it was to be on his back     and at the mercy of the shorter man.

    Sadly, the sand doesn’t grant him much leverage, and the most he can     manage is shoving the palm of one hand against the other’s cheek and     shove his face away. Obscuring his vision best to his ability, even if he     was well aware of the proximity of his fingers to the other’s mouth.     A change of tactics and he shoves his forearm in the place of it, a low     hissing noise escaping him.

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Green eyes not unlike a calm sea slowly opened as the song concluded, and looked to he who had played the song. He took a quiet breath, and was about to say something. A compliment, perhaps. Or maybe a question about what it was or why it was he was playing it. But he got no such chance, for the music began again.
Ingvar decided it was best he not interrupt, and he therefore said nothing. Instead, he for a second time closed his eyes. As if such a thing was even possible, the second song seemed even more soothing than the first.
After this one, the giant vowed, he would compliment the one making such beautiful music.
“Excuse me, s-sir!” he dared say softly once this second song ended, but he hesitated as he thought of what to follow up his words with. “The music you is making, it…. i-it very beautiful.”

::『』learn тo вe lonely ::

   The voice was deep, however soft, and it drew his gaze upwards to the     towering height of the giant. One hand reached back to keep his hat from     falling, harmonica still grasped in the other one. And all at once, Snufkin     was quite sure he didn’t wish to be called sir at all. Politeness was all fine     and good, but he had never much liked it. The compliment, however, told     a different story. While he didn’t seek praise, it does make a smile cross his     face. A moment passes before he wonders if his voice will carry properly to     respond.

    He takes a breath however, and raises it a bit above speaking volume.

    “Thank you!”

    It prompts him to rise from where he sits, if simply to give him a better position     to see without the sun’s glare falling upon him from the angle. Another breath is     taken however, as he moves closer with the hopes that he’ll satisfy his curiosity.     He had never seen a being taller than the Hobgoblin, after all. He pauses when     there’s a good bit of distance closed between them before sitting himself in the     flowers. A moment passes before he pats his palm with the flat side of his harmonica.

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    “But, really. You needn’t call me ‘sir.’ My name is Snufkin. And you are?”

    He’d be tempted to offer a hand, but thinks better of it. Just sitting like this will     have to suffice, and perhaps he could play more in the meantime. He isn’t one for     conversation normally, but he’s ever so curious about a giant; the kind he had only     heard whispers of in stories. And most stories were known to have some truth in     them after all.

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Little Stowaway

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@snufkxn
    It was a whole day’s distance away from Moomin valley, for one who cares not for location or is simply unaware of it this is a great distance one would walk when one starts in the morning and stops at twilight. But to one who acts as part of luggage and is stuck in a tight dark place long enough, it could be next week for all they knew.
Little My was only seconds away from climbing out of the vagabond’s bag when he settled his things down for the night. As soon as she was aware they had stopped, My poked her head out of the pack’s flap to get a peek at the world. It was still much colder outside than in the bag, but that’s what you get for leaving on the borders between autumn and winter.
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Okay, time to get out. 

::『』learn тo вe lonely ::

   Winter’s chill had yet to come upon him, but fall was certainly not the     same as summer. The steadily changed landscape stood testament to     this, lush green has been replaced with the warm colours of the season.     The border stood as beautiful as always, but he had no desire to remain     to watch the trees shed themselves. Winter was simply not his season,     and never would be. Yet, he could walk no further for now. Busying     himself with building the ring of stones and searching for kindling and     wood, he doesn’t notice his sister untangle herself from his pack.     Why would he, after all?

    By this point, it was just too far to just go back. If anyone had come     with him, he would be forced to take them all the way South with him,     and that simply wouldn’t do at all. But, her presence would remain     unknown to him for a good while, though not quite long enough for her     to hide from him. Once he had set the fire pit up, going to his rusksack     for his matches wasn’t a far thought. And well, Little My was a rather     obvious sight. Red dress against the backdrop of the forest, he isn’t     fully sure at first if the reaction that takes hold of him is shock or     immediate annoyance.

    His sister was here, outside of the Valley. Many, many miles away from     home, and there was absolutely no possible way he could order her to go     back safely. While he had every confidence in her survival, he didn’t have     the same in his ability to persuade a mymble out of whatever she’s decided.     Shock gives way into irritation, and he feels his jaw tighten into a taut frown.     Reaching into his pack wordlessly, he pulls his box of matches from it and     stalks back to the firepit.

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    “You shouldn’t be here.”

    Words as chilly as the air around them, he makes his displeasure quite apparent;     given her invasion of his solitary travels. And perhaps, his own bitterness about     the very fact he can’t simply send her away. Well, granted, he could. But, he simply     found it was more inconvenient than keeping her close by. Even if he loathed both     options terribly. The question of why rests on his tongue, but he keeps it behind     his teeth until she speaks. Perhaps she’ll answer it without him having to ask at     all, he’d rather not talk more than needed as it was.

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The Joxter nods as Little My speaks, paying more attention to her than Snufkin for a moment. “That’s sound logic, Little My. Far be it from me, to argue with the route that efficient.” He was more prone to saving things that were the most work for last, but he knew that most other people didn’t see things the way that he saw them. He may be contrary, but trying to change people’s minds about anything but him was simply far too much work.
But, the older Mumrik can’t help but grin at the question Snufkin poses when he speaks. While typically his reasons were his own and he’d not share them unless he absolutely had to, he thinks that this is something of an exception, if only due to the simplicity of said reasoning. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, clawed fingers picking at the lint they found there, and rocks back on his heels for a moment. And with his small, smug grin on his face, he says, quite simply,
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“Because you won’t do it.”

::『』learn тo вe lonely ::

   Whether it’s the look or the words, something catches in him. A spark catches     along the bitterness that’s always present, fanning it rapidly from smouldering     to a heat that fills his chest all of a sudden. It leaves his hands shaking, teeth     bared behind lips, as he curls on into a fist. He won’t do it? Well, of course not.     But, that was his decision, not the Joxter’s. Exhaling deeply through his nose,     he presses his mouth to his knuckles.

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    “Is that so?”

    Then, he moves. Winding one arm back quickly, his intent becomes obvious     by the time his fist is moving forward. It’s a crude punch, but it’s solid; years     of travelling had made him rather nimble when it came to things like this. And     there’s a degree of satisfaction when his fist makes contact with the other     mumrik’s nose. He doubts he’s strong enough to properly break it, but at the     very least he’ll have—hopefully—knocked the other clean off his feet. As well     as unconventionally honoured Little My’s request for a kiss, even if it’s hardly     what she’d been expecting. His shoulders remain tight for a moment, before     shaking his hand out as he glowers at the other man.

    He says nothing, even if his tongue is burning with many things he could possibly     say; but he curls his fingers and strains the bruises starting on his knuckles instead.

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Moonlit Vigil

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Eyes cast skyward, she was silent as she took this statement into full consideration. He was right, of course: the spirited creatures of this valley had been nothing but accepting, even with differences in opinion. But what place ever accepted death gracefully, when there was a face to put it to, a sentient being to blame?
“That’s a wonderful thought, but a touch hard to believe…some people are only bearers of painful tidings, whether they like to be or not. Nobody likes it when they come, and when they leave, there’s a hollow left in their wake. But come they must, and pass they must.”

::『』learn тo вe lonely ::

   Brown eyes remain focused on the stars, despite the serious tone the     topic was taking. Everything about her was serious, it seemed. From     the slope of her shoulders to the set of her mouth. Yet, he understood     without needing to be told that she was correct. He didn’t even need     the context to her vagueness, it was all to easy to simply understand     whatever it was; it was necessary.

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    “Painful tidings are necessary at times, whether one likes them or not.     Some people are simply better at accepting it than others, however.”

    His thoughts drift to Moomin, knowing full well his dear friend was not     one who could quickly accept the loss of much of anything. It wasn’t     truly Snufkin’s duty to deal with it though, and he’d be doing him a     terrible disservice to try. But, Moomin rarely left the Valley and was     often spared the darker sights.

    “The coming and going is another border, after all.”

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[ @snufkxn ]
This Valley was such a strange place. Unlike the others he had ventured through, Ingvar needn’t worry about making people scream and flee at the sight of him. No; they seemed awfully surprised to see a giant, but not frightened. It was different, to say the least, but not in a bad way. Thus, the giant had found a rather nice field of flowers, and sat closeby, admiring its beauty as he smoked his pipe.
He was gently nudged from his own thoughts (a nice change of pace from the usual jarring he got from them) at the sound of music. Ingvar quietly looked up from the flowers to see a human (Or, at least, it looked like one) clad in green and playing some sort of instrument. That music sounded very nice, he thought, but he didn’t wish to interrupt nor startle the one playing. Instead, the giant simply stared, leaning forward a bit in his seat as he listened. He even put out his pipe and returned it to his pocket so that he could have his full attention upon the beautiful sounds. 

::『』learn тo вe lonely ::

   After nature, music was the second great love of Snufkin’s life; if one     could call it such. To string notes together with gentle coaxing, placing     them contently into bars to make a song. Never did he find a more     enjoyable pastime than those moments of creation, when it was just     him and the notes all alone. But, just as much... He loved to play his     songs, for himself and others.

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    Even hearing a sound amid his playing, one both far and close, he didn’t     stop. Nor did he look up to see what could have possibly caused it, aware     but not fully intent on forcing whatever creature to reveal itself. It simply     wasn’t his nature, and he could appreciate someone who enjoyed his     music--even in hiding.

    The current song comes to an end, and for a moment he pauses; as if     considering what else to play from his mental collection. And then,     putting his harmonica back to his lips; he sets out on another tune all together.

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forebodiings:
At the other Mumrik’s words, Joxter immediately started wracking his brain for anything that would match up to what Little My was saying from the Pre-Nap era of his memory. It wasn’t unusual for him to temporarily forget things during the process of a nap, if only because he didn’t bother to think about them. 
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“I do so.” And he did, he remembered pretty clearly after that second of thought having signed up for Little My’s kisses, figuring it a harmless part of some game she was playing. For a similar reason, he signed up for Snufkin kisses, though a small part of that was an amusement at being the only one to have signed up for them when he did. He just frankly didn’t think that Snufkin was going to do it. Color him surprised.
   Oh she knew that three-quarters of Joxter’s brain was stuck in dreams, it wouldn’t surprise her if he’d thought their encounter with her list of people to kiss was only a small dream lost among many. Nevertheless, she laughed at his irritation at Snufkin poking holes in him. The important thing was that he knew now.
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“Well Joxter, I’ve got, oh, a few people I owe a kiss to. YOU especially. The reason why you’re first is because you’re the only one on Snufkin’s list, and we oughta knock out two birds with one stone, don’t you think?” Her hands rested behind her back as she bowed to Snufkin, still metaphorically waving that single slip of a name in his face, whether he cared for it or not.

::『』learn тo вe lonely ::

   Brows draw over his eyes as Joxter insists against forgetting, when it’s clear     he did. But, true to form, Snufkin isn’t going to bother too much with the effort     of proving the other man wrong when he already is. And even if he hadn’t     remembered, My’s determination to go along with this would be enough     motivation for him to fake it.

    When she brings attention back to the topic of kisses and looking at him with     an air of expectation, he finds his mouth setting with annoyance. He still had     absolutely no intentions of going through with the request, but he does want     answers to why. Whether he likes them or not, part of him demands it. If just     because he knows there won’t be any choice in telling him and neither he or     his father like sharing their reasonings. It was simply theirs, and part of him     finds delight in making the other mumrik uncomfortable.

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    “I don’t have a reason to kiss you, but why ever would you ask for one?”

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forebodiings:
The shell hits him square in the face, and though he’d managed to ignore the shouting, he can’t ignore that. His eyes squeeze tighter shut for a moment and he shakes his head, ushering the sleep from his mind properly with a noisy, noisy yawn.
Its likely a long moment for those waiting, as Joxter stretches out to shake the sleep from his bones, bracing himself against the rock to pop his back before he sat up, feeling to place his hat back on his head with a humph. What ever could little My want from him that warrented throwing a… Rock? No, wait, that was one of the shells he’d spent the morning collecting. Bet she’d ruined the neat little pile he’d stacked them into as well.
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And there’s that annoyed expression over the side of the rock, and the rest of him is soon to follow, sliding down the sloped side of the boulder and to the ground. “Well, I’m up then. What dues are there to be paid?”
    Little my suppressed a laugh when she heard the THWACK of shell against body. Her paws burying her grin and silently implied cackles, she knew he was up there.
WELL IT’S ABOUT TIME!” she called up at the disgruntled face glowering down at them.
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“Don’t you remember? You made a request for the both of us!” she waved a hand over at her companion, grumpy-gus number two. “I promised you kisses, didn’t I?” of course she did.

::『』learn тo вe lonely ::

  He’s long since shoved his hands back into his pockets, firmly adopting a look    of equal grumpiness at the other man. But, for the time being, he’s going to let    My speak. And then he’ll demand his answers. For the moment, he’ll just be    pleased about the fact he got to interrupt his nap.

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   “... I don’t think he does, My.”

   As if he wouldn’t be quick on taking advantage of the older man’s habit of forgetting    things. If just spurred further by even more resentment to urge him to point it out,    when with anyone else he’d be less likely to even bother.

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    “Of COURSE he’s up there. JOXTER WAKE UP!” 
She had no doubts about her decision, but it was becoming clear that merely shouting up at him would hardly stir the stubbornly tired mumrik. So she devised a plan that stemmed from the pile of seashells.
Little My crouched and sifted through the pile, stopping to look at some only to toss it aside. Then when she found something with some weight to it, My stood up and raised her chosen shell up to present it to the taller boy.
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“Bet you can’t wake him up with this.”

::『』learn тo вe lonely ::

   It took extraordinary stubbornness to withstand the volume of Little My’s voice,     something Snufkin had a fair amount of experience with attempting. And he’d     yet to succeed, so it truly was a feat that a annoyed expression hadn’t come     over the side of the rock at the two of them yet.

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     It doesn’t take much thought for him to put together what his sister is implying,      brown eyes resting on the shell in her hands. A beat of silence passes between      them, his hand reaching out to take the shell that feels a bit smaller in his grasp      than hers.

     “Possibly.”

     He’s well aware that, logically, he shouldn’t be formulating the idea he is coming up      with. And it’d be a far better option to just set it aside and hoist My onto the rock for      a better proximity for yelling the other man awake. Yet, with a bitterness making itself      known in the firm line of his mouth; he winds back with one hand and pitches the angle      of the shell. And there’s a tiny bit of satisfaction when the sound that follows is a dull      sound instead of the ping of the stone.

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forebodiings:
The Joxter, for all that he’s signed up for kisses, is doing something very typical of him. Something that won’t readily contribute to the gathering of any kisses. Or anything else, for that matter. He’s found himself a sunny spot on a large rock near the beach, and is, well… Napping.
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He’d spent a good portion of the morning earlier exploring part of the beach, and felt he’d earned himself a little nap, what with the sea shells he’d found. They were a primarily pink and blue bunch, and stacked neatly not far from where he’d settled down, acting as the only indication that there may have been someone atop the rock they sat at the base of.
    It was very typical for the mumriks to reside far away from each other, and the furthest away My could think of from Snufkin’s campsite that was still in the valley would be on the beach somewhere. It was also where the sun shined the proudest, an ideal place for any sun-bathing feline.
 “JOOOXTERRRRR!” she called out, as if expecting a reply. She should know better than to assume he was awake and/or willing to move. With her brother in tow, My seemed to be making the bigger effort on finding his papa, which too was unsurprising.
Upon coming across a curious pile of collected shells she assumed that someone must be nearby. A large rock perfectly in the sun with a pile of pretty shells at its base? It was a lucky guess.
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“JOXTER, WE’VE COME TO PAY OUR DUES. WAKE UP!”

::『』learn тo вe lonely ::

   Snufkin, for his part, trails a fair distance behind his sister; a feat given the     difference in their leg spans. While My certainly wasn’t slow by any means,     it was also a bit of a challenge to actually lag behind her if she wasn’t actively     trying to overtake someone else. They reach the beach all the same, despite     his reluctance even as he turns from her searching to inspect the coastline.

    His only reason for coming at all had been for answers, truthfully. There was no     intention in actually giving his father a kiss of any kind. Yet, when My shouts out     both their presences, he trudges over to the boulder to stand beside her.

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    “Are you certain he’s up there?”

    Perhaps the question comes out a bit softer than one would assume, given the     obvious moodiness he’s displayed thus far. But, curiosity could soften most     things as it was.

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    Yes Little My is failing to stifle a laugh, her grin giving him no comfort or support. She was obviously amused by this. But, that’s the thing about being aware of one’s middle-ground status between two individuals, she needed to appeal to her brother’s good side at least enough to help him comply.
“Aw it’s not so bad just one little peck! See? I got him too!” Except the difference was she didn’t see the Joxter as horrible and grotesque as Snufkin did. Still, she saw how badly Snufkin was feeling and gently took his hand in her claws.
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Come on, I’ll even go with you to settle my own end,” and be a witness.

::『』learn тo вe lonely ::

   His lips press into a thin line, if just to avoid baring his teeth at the mention of     a peck, when he’d much rather deck the man in question. But, he manages a     faint exhale when she takes his hand in her own smaller ones. Granted, it doesn’t     make him any more thrilled to go and he’s certain she knows that.

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    “I don’t see why I should.”

    But, all the same, he doesn’t exactly oppose accompanying her for her own little     game. He can always leave should he feel compelled and she certainly wouldn’t     judge him for it. Drawing his hand away from her grasp slowly, he shoves them     both into his pockets and gives a petulant huff.

    “... Why did he ask?”

    A touch of annoyance hits his tone, but at least now he finds he has a reason to go     with her. If just to demand an explanation.

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“Oh don’t you get all tense on me.”
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From behind her bow she pulls out two slips of paper. One slightly bigger than the other. My lifted up the bigger one to show off approximately nine names.
“See? This is my list. It’s a heck of a lot bigger than yours.” 
And then in the other hand, she raises Snufkin’s list. Just one person sat on that list, one who was also on hers but by name.
“Aaaand this is yours.”
Your Dad

::『』learn тo вe lonely ::

   He takes in the nine names written on the piece of paper impassively,     before his gaze comes to rest on the one she’d dubbed his. The moment     his eyes skim over the words, however, his expression darkens significantly.

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    “... Why?”

    It’s not quite a snap, but he’s certainly not pleased with the results of this ‘game’     she’s prepared. Had it been anyone else, maybe he would be more willing. But,     the thought of kissing that man didn’t rank very high on his list of wants.

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“Oh it’s just an itty-bitty list of people I’ve collected who want a kiss from you is all.”

::『』learn тo вe lonely ::

   A beat of silence between them, his attention abruptly brought     to her with a bit more intensity than before.

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    “... Excuse me?”

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