Of Joxters and Snufkins

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Cover image by nastycheburek on Tumblr

Snufkin, a small mumrik of eleven, hid behind his mother's skirts as she knocked on the wooden door to the tall, vaguely onion-shaped hut. His mother, known far and wide as Mymble, told him that this neck of the woods was where his father lived, or at the very least where he wandered. She also told him that should his father be okay with it, he would be living with him from then on.

"Why must I go live with him, mother?" He had asked her at the time. She told him that he was far more a mumrik than a mymble and should be around his father for the coming years as he'd know things she couldn't even begin to fathom.

His stomach still fluttered at the idea. He'd never been away from his mother for too long and now he was going to be apart from her for who knows how long. Still, meeting his father was an exciting prospect. Would he have a tail like Snufkin? Would he look a lot like him? Would they both like fishing? The Mymble had nothing but glowing praises for his father, the Joxter. She went on about how he was so charming and funny and adventurous, and how'd he'd take Snufkin on a real adventure someday.

The lock on the door clicked. Snufkin stiffened, his hands getting clammy and his tail wrapping around his leg.

"Joxter!" Mymble declared, barging across the threshold before the door had opened all the way.

Snufkin heard an exclamation of surprise and a squawk of pain as the Joxter was pulled into one of his mother's infamous embraces.

"Mymble!" The Joxter declared. "What a wonderful surprise!"

Snufkin still couldn't see him, Mymble still in the way. He could see his shoes though, dangling midair as the Joxter returned the hug. They were long and red and in need of a buffing, and the laces were a loose tripping hazard.

The Joxter was released from the Mymble's arms and it was only then that he noticed a third person in the room.

"Who's this?" He asked, running a furry, clawed hand through his unruly black hair.

"This," Mymble said, getting behind her son and giving him a little push on the back. "is your son, Joxter. Snufkin, say 'hello'."

Snufkin stepped forward, took off his green, wide-rimmed hat and looked up at the tall mumrik. "H-hello." He said, averting his gaze. "My name is Snufkin."

Joxter, for his part, didn't move. In fact, he looked more like a stunned animal than a mumrik in that moment. "I have a son!?" He yelled, his long, black tail straightening behind him as he pulled at his hair. "How? When?" He aimed his questions at Mymble, who couldn't help but smirk, somewhat knowingly.

"Well, I believe you know how, we did..." She glanced at her son. "dance quite a few times. And as for when, well I'd say it's been nearly twelve years at this point."

The Joxter had many more questions, all of which the Mymble answered whilst preparing a pot of tea.

"Well we've been travelling, Joxter- you don't have any sugar, do you?" She asked, cutting off her explanation of why he never knew about Snufkin until now.

"No, I don't." Joxter replied, head in hands at the kitchen table. He inhaled, eyeing his small son out of the corner of his eye. Snufkin hadn't moved an inch from his earlier spot, heavily doubting he was even wanted in the onion-shaped house at all.

"Why are you here now, then?" He asked, looking at Mymble's back.

"Oh, well I think Snufkin should stay with you for a while." She said, sipping her drink. For a minute, her slurping was the only sound in the hut.