A chilling night in Moominvalley. While everyone was enjoying the campfire, a sudden drop in temperature warned them that they were no longer alone. My OC Natra, along with Snufkin, Moomintroll, and Sniff, come face to face with the creeping cold of the Groke.

Scene from my fanfiction.

While the others sat by the campfire, enjoying the food and company, Snufkin noticed that Natra was shivering slightly. The night was growing cold, and the warmth of the fire wasn't enough to keep the chill at bay. The girl stretched her hands toward the flames, feeling the temperature suddenly drop significantly—it felt wrong, unnatural. She looked at her friends with a mix of disbelief and surprise.

"Do you... feel that?" Natra hugged her knees to her chest, looking around warily, as if searching for something.

Moomintroll, Sniff, and Snufkin froze, realizing the sudden, inexplicable drop in temperature. Moomintroll looked around, his face reflecting a mixture of confusion and anxiety.

"Yes, I feel it," he said, his voice laced with unease.

"It’s... getting colder," Sniff added, his voice a thin whisper.

Natra shifted a bit closer to the guys, crouching down and starting to look around.

"Something is wrong..."

A strange noise came from the forest. They all fell silent; the sounds of the night seemed to become more pronounced in the sudden stillness. The noise from the woods sent a shiver down their spines. It was an unfamiliar, almost eerie sound that made them all nervous.

Moomintroll spoke quietly, his voice barely louder than a whisper: "What is that?"

Natra swallowed nervously, rising slightly and leaning on Snufkin's shoulder. She squinted toward the forest and saw a huge, haystack-shaped something separate itself from the trees. It was whining, moaning, and approaching them.

"It’s..."

The creature drew closer, its massive figure looming against the backdrop of the trees. They could hear its heavy steps and the strange sounds it made—a mix of hooting and whimpering. Natra’s grip on Snufkin's shoulder tightened involuntarily as the creature approached, and they all subconsciously moved closer to one another.

"What is it..." Moomintroll whispered, his voice trembling.

"It’s... The Groke," Natra exhaled quietly, nudging everyone to retreat. Behind its large silhouette, a trail of ice was visible on the ground, and the grass had died. The Groke continued to approach, groaning and rustling her skirts.

The moment Natra identified the creature as the Groke, a collective sense of dread washed over the group. They could feel the cold radiating from her, and the sight of the frozen grass sent shivers down their spines. Sniff clung tightly to Moomintroll's arm, while Moomintroll himself took a step back, his heart pounding. Snufkin, though clearly frightened, stood his ground, placing a protective hand on Natra's shoulder.