A/N: part of my Goofy AU series.

Somniloquy

It seemed like every moment spent with the Joxter was one to learn something new about him. Which, really, Snufkin supposed made sense, considering he had never met his father until a few short days ago. Knowing him in person was certainly an entirely different experience than knowing him through Moominpappa's memoirs.

For example, Moominpappa had never once mentioned that Joxter talked, or walked, in his sleep.

It wasn't all that surprising that Joxter had fallen asleep as easily as he had. They had both eaten not long ago, the sun had set and a fire had been steadily burning for some time. If Snufkin had been honest with himself, it was more surprising Joxter hadn't fallen asleep sooner. That was something he had known about Joxter well before they met, at least; he definitely enjoyed sleeping and would do it whenever he could. He supposed it counted for and meant something that Joxter had waited until the day's events had dwindled down to near nothing before falling asleep.

As the night drew on, and as he waited for sleep to come for him as well, Snufkin busied himself with idly whittling away at a piece of wood. He'd had no real shape in mind, but as he worked away at it, it gradually seemed to be taking the shape of Moomin. It made himself to himself, and he decided it couldn't hurt to continue, maybe even finish the piece. He did miss Moomin a little more than he cared to admit at the moment.

He had been so caught up in scraping his knife against the wood and the sound of the fire crackling nearby, that he hadn't quite noticed Joxter stirring. At least, not until he had sat himself up, and then stood, clumsily making his way toward Snufkin.

Setting the knife and carving down, Snufkin brought his attention to Joxter, eyebrow raised. He couldn't help but notice Joxter seemed to be swaying a little.

"Is something wrong?" Snufkin asked.

Joxter mumbled something in response.

Snufkin's brow furrowed a little now, and he sat up a little straighter. "What? Da-?"

Joxter drew in a sudden deep breath before repeating his question a little louder, a little more clearly. "How many cups of sugar does it take to get to the moon?"

Snufkin's confusion was evident on his face, though he realized soon enough that Joxter wouldn't notice that. His eyes were still closed. He was still very much asleep. Snufkin's confusion faded, and he couldn't help but grin a little up at his sleeping father.

"Uh…" he thought it over for a moment, and shrugged more to himself than Joxter. "Three and a half?"

Joxter mumbled in his sleep again, and seemingly satisfied with the answer, took up a new place to sleep closer to Snufkin.