Hmph. Hercule Mustache here. You’ll have to forgive me if I seem grumpy — I usually am. The puffins are squawking again, the sea is chill, and my whiskers are frosted stiff. Life at Mossy Bay isn’t exactly peaceful when you’ve got feathers, waves, and constant nonsense around you.

But I’ll let you in on a secret: though I grumble and groan, I’m not all tusks and moustache. I’ve got a soft spot — for quiet evenings when the aurora dances above, for the hush of the sea at dusk, and for those rare friends who sit beside me without demanding I cheer up. I do care, though I don’t always show it with smiles. Sometimes my kindness is hidden under my whiskers and my growl.

So, if you don’t mind a walrus with a moustache and a bad temper, stay a while. I might complain, yes, but I’ll also listen. And perhaps you’ll see that beneath all this bluster, I’m just another creature longing for warmth, companionship, and the simple comfort of being understood.