Chapter Text
The first time Snufkin noticed the fur was during his bath.
It had been a pleasant experience up to that point, the water just cold enough to be refreshing, more of his time spent splashing about than actually bathing, but it counted. So long as it got done, it counted. Floating around quite happily, he stretched, shivering, only to look down and realize he’d quite forgotten to wash his arms. The skin was dark, stained by… something? Roughly, he scrubbed at it, winching at the raw pain. Curious, Snufkin lifted his arm up to make a better inspection, only to realize it wasn’t a dirt stain at all, but a small patch where the hair had grown darker.
Perhaps it works like freckles, he thought, scratching at it with his fingertip. I must have been in the sun too long, he decided, ignoring the fact that he only ever wore long sleeves. Whatever it was, it was probably fine.
A week later and things were decidedly not fine. Whatever it was, it was contagious, his other arm quickly copying the first. The dark patches spread from his wrists to halfway up his forearm, a burnt auburn color, coated in downy fur. Terrified now, he forced himself to get over the embarrassment of becoming… whatever it was he was turning into and seek Moominmamma’s help.
“I think the witch might have cursed me,” running into the kitchen, Snufkin all but broke the door down in his panic.
“Oh, hello Snufkin.” Moominmamma looked up from the bowl she was stirring long enough to smile at him warmly.
Snufkin stopped in his tracks, nodding his head in return. “Hello Moominmamma.”
“What was that about a witch?”
“I think the witch might have cursed me.”
“Oh dear.” Setting down her bowl carefully, Moominmamma walked over to him. “Would you like any coffee?”
“No, thank you.”
“Alright, dear. Now,” pulling out a stool, Mamma gestured for him to sit. “What makes you think you’ve been cursed?”
“I’m turning into whatever the Hobgoblin’s hat made Moomin.” He had suspected it for a while now, but saying it out loud made it all the more terrifying.
“Oh my, that is a problem, isn’t it?” Resting her snout on her paw, Moominmamma looked him over. “Although, I must say you still look like Snufkin.”
“Yes, but look.” Holding his arms out, Snufkin let the sleeves fall back.
“I see,” humming thoughtfully, Moominmamma touched his arms carefully, examining them. “How long has it been like this?”
“At least two weeks.”
“And it just showed up all at once?”
“No, it started here,” he gestured, “then it spread.”
“It certainly has.” Taking his paw, Moominmamma examined the small patch of fur on the back of his hand. Snufkin gasped.
“That wasn’t there yesterday!”
“Does it hurt?”
“No, but it itches.”
“Well, I can give you something to help the itching. Why don’t we see if Grandma’s book has anything on sudden fur growth?”
“Thank you, Moominmamma.”
“Of course.”
A few minutes later and Snufkin was sitting at the table, a creamy green mixture slathered over his arms as Moominmamma poured over Grandma’s red book of cures.
“Seasickness, allergies, fur going patchy- that might help.”
“At the very least, we can try doing the cure backwards.”
“What are you two up to today?” Coming downstairs, Moominpappa lifted a match to his pipe.
“Outside, Dear. And we’re trying to undo Snufkin’s curse.”
“Snufkin’s been cursed, you say?” Shaking the flame out, Pappa took the pipe from between his teeth.
“Yes, Moominpappa. The witch is turning me into a beast of some sort,” Snufkin nodded seriously.
“Is that why you’ve gone all green?”
“No. This is just to help with the itching.” Snufkin wiped a bit of lotion off with his finger. “Take a look.”
Moominpappa peered closer, squinting at the dark fur. “I see.” He hummed thoughtfully. “And what exactly am I looking at?”
“I’ve got fur,” embarrassed, as if admitting a dark secret, Snufkin pulled his shoulders up.
“Yes, I suppose it’s about time you did.”
“What do you mean, Dear? Snufkin’s always been near hairless.”
“Yes, but his father wasn’t. He’s just as much Joxter as Mymble., after all.” Straightening up, Moominpappa gazed down at Snufkin proudly. “You, my son, are a man now.”
“I don’t think I want to be.”
“Keep using the lotion if it helps, but I wouldn’t bother the witch about it. It’s your own nature.”
“I’d rather my nature stopped.”
“Nonsense. It’s doing what it does best. Besides, it’ll keep you warm for your wanderings.”
“I’m warm enough as I am, thank you.” Snufkin suddenly had a terrifying thought. “Am I going to go hairy all over like a woodie?”
“No, no! Of course not. You’re still your parents’ child. Just a bit on the limbs and,” Moominpappa pushed up Snufkin’s bangs, “oh, yep. You might want to get some lotion on his forehead and nose, Mamma.”
“My forehead!” Horrified, Snufkin peered upwards as if he could see it.
“Not to worry, dear.” Moominmamma patted his hand. “You already cover it with fur as it is.” Standing, she began to hum lightly. “I’ll get a glass jar for you to take some lotion home in.”
“Right, my boy.” Moominpappa clapped him on the back. “You’re fit to be a proper sailor now.”
“Must I?” Voice squeaking, Snufkin tugged his hat down.