Chapter Text
The wind whips violently against Mumbo's face, piercing even the thickest layers of his coat. His chest contracts, his throat aches with each sharp intake of breath.
Something is after him, chasing him endlessly through the snowy forest. Mumbo knows, deep down, this thing is playing a game of cat and mouse with him. Why else would he have felt its presence all night, just for it to sit and wait?
It had baited him, left him on edge, paranoid, and just when Mumbo thought he was safe, it pounced.
In the early morning, just before the sun was due to rise, a shadow shifted along the faint light of his tent. A twig snapped, and he was throwing himself out into the open.
So he's running, just barely dodging roots and stray tree limbs. He can hear its footsteps just behind him, certainly fast enough to catch up with him. He hears the creature growl, then a high-pitched screech that has his hands flying up to cover his ears.
This is all part of the hunt, of course. Its tactic to confuse its prey works, and within seconds, Mumbo is slipping on a patch of ice. He goes down face first, not even granted the pleasure of falling into snow, but even more ice. A sickening crunch rings out in the forest, almost deafening.
He pushes himself up on shaky hands just long enough to see the crack in the ice and the warm blood dripping onto it. The creature inhales from behind him. The snarl that leaves its mouth is the last thing he hears before it's on him, flipping him onto his back for what Mumbo can only assume is easier access.
Teeth sharper than any he's ever seen pierce the skin of his neck. He isn't sure if he screams or not, the pain is searingly hot against the cold, yet he can't do anymore than squirm beneath the creature.
His limbs feel heavy, and a haze settles over him.
Mumbo has never been more terrified in his life.
Mumbo has never been more calm in his life.
The creature lets him go eventually. Mumbo can feel the blood spilling from his neck, staining the sheer white ice beneath him. His head is spinning, nausea swirling around his gut. If he had any energy to move, he's sure he'd be throwing up right now.
The snow surrounding him glistens under the rising sun, the trees sway in the gentle breeze that seemed so harsh just moments ago. Mumbo wishes he could take a picture, thinks briefly that he should lay down more often.
Enormous spruce trees circle him, enclosing the frozen pond, small in size, that he's laying on. It's the perfect angle.
He wonders what the hermits are up to right now, wonders if they miss him.
Time seems to pass extremely slowly. Mumbo watches as the breath leaves his mouth in little clouds, watches as the frequency of each breath lessens until there is none at all.
Can he get the perfect angle?
It's cold...
✫
Mumbo Jumbo joined the game.
A chorus of 'welcome back's' makes its way through the main chat, but the man in question doesn't respond.
Xisuma is on his way to spawn, hoping Mumbo simply lost his communicator. It's been months since they last heard from him, which wasn't totally unexpected considering how rocky cross-server communication can be.
Coming up on the shore of the lake, Xisuma spots Mumbo sprawled out on the rocks, "Mumbo?" The admin kneels by his side, shaking him lightly.
His lips are blue and chapped, melting ice drips down his face like tears. He looks dead. Xisuma has half the mind to take his glove off and check.
He reaches for Mumbo, gasping at the frigid temperature emanating from him. For an antagonizing long time, Xisuma holds Mumbo's freezing cold wrist and waits. He nearly chokes in relief when the faintest hint of a pulse beats under his fingers.
A splotch of red catches his attention next. Blood, dry for the most part, comes from Mumbo's left ear. It makes itself known in the man's dark hair.
Xisuma tilts Mumbo's head to the side, nearly falling backwards with the sight in front of him. How he hadn't noticed earlier, he isn't sure, but Mumbo's neck is absolutely covered in blood. X can't even see the wound.
He has to take a few deep breaths before reaching for his communicator.
Xisumavoid: Need medical assistance near spawn.
Goodtimewithscar: I'm in the shopping district. Be there soon
ImpulseSV: Everything okay X?
Grian: Is Mumbo okay?
Xisuma puts his comm down, resisting the urge to take his helmet off just to massage his temples. What have you gotten yourself into, Mumbo?
Scar arrives a few minutes later, skidding across the rocks in a way that is sure to hurt. He doesn't complain though, choosing to kneel at Mumbo's other side just as Xisuma is.
"What happened?" Scar asks, serious in a way X rarely sees.
"I'm not sure. These injuries don't look recent either."
Scar nods, bringing two bottles of healing from his inventory, "I wasn't sure what you needed. Heres some gauze, if you could wet it with the potion and clean up the blood?"
"Of course," Xisuma does as he's told, wiping the blood from Mumbo's face and ear. He leaves the other side to Scar, who has moved to prop Mumbo's head up on his lap. He pours the sickly sweet liquid down Mumbo's throat slowly, shushing him like a child when he coughs.
X is just glad Mumbo coughed at all. When he finishes wiping the blood, he finds that there is no open wound. A small scar is the only thing left behind.
"Let's get him out of the open. My starter base is close enough," Xisuma hums in response. Hefting Mumbo up into his arms isn't nearly as hard as he thought it'd be. He's unhealthily light.
Scar pushes himself up with his cane, groaning quietly. Xisuma waits, smiling softly when Scar catches up with him.
The walk to his starter base is near silent. When they arrive, Xisuma sets Mumbo down in the nearest bed. His heart leaps when the man's expression finally shifts to something other than the stiffness it held earlier.
"It doesn't look like he has any existing injuries. It's all a matter of patience now." It feels odd hearing this from Scar. Xisuma hadn't noticed just how shaken he actually is, "You should get some rest, X. Should I call Keralis?"
Releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding, Xisuma smiles weakly, "That would be nice." Scar pats his shoulder before walking away, talking quietly into his communicator.
At some point, Scar sets up a fireplace. It hurts Xisuma's eyes, but he can’t bring himself to look away. His purple visor distorts the color.
In an unknown amount of time, Keralis appears. X thinks he hears Scar talking to him, something about dissociation, but he can't process it. His mind is filled with cotton, fuzzy, blurring everything against his will.
Keralis' arms fall over his shoulders, warm and grounding, "Let's get you home, Shishwammy."
He tries to thank Scar on his way out, but his eyes land on Mumbo. From the moment Xisuma met Mumbo, freshly 17 and eager to please, he has never seen him in such bad shape. He can't help thinking that it's his fault.
He should have been there. He shouldn't have let Mumbo go in the first place.
✫
Mumbo wakes slowly, eyelids so heavy it feels like a workout to get them open. His throat is painfully dry and there's a dull ache in the side of his neck.
He turns his head to the side, met with the interior of Scar's starter base. The vex himself is tending to the fireplace. Mumbo watches him stoke it before he turns to a furnace, picking up a spoon to stir a pot.
The sight is comforting, familiar. Mumbo has missed his friends, has missed Scar's cooking. Has missed Scar.
When Scar turns around, he drops the spoon he was holding. It hits the ground with what is supposed to be a clatter, but Mumbo doesn't hear it. He watches Scar's lips move, his expression worried and frantic, but he can't hear his voice.
It brings him to tears. Scar is beside him in seconds, "What's wrong, Mumbo?" Mumbo can only sniffle as Scar wipes his tears.
"C-can't hear you..." His throat is scratchy as he says it. He has to open his eyes and watch Scar's face just to be sure he said anything at all.
"What? What do you mean you can't hear me?" Mumbo only shakes his head weakly. Scar stands quickly, ignoring the protest of his legs. He returns with a notebook and a pencil. He writes, 'What happened?'
Handing the notebook and pencil over, he waits for Mumbo to write back with those cold, pale hands, 'I can't remember much. I know I was camping in a forest.'
'We'll talk about it later with X. Are you up for a bath?' Mumbo doesn't bother writing out a response, just nods eagerly. He does request some water before they get up though.
The bathroom is very elf-like, with vines running along the wood and gold accents on each appliance. Mumbo still can't believe this is a 'starter base.' He scoffs to himself.
Scar turns the water on, plugging the tub before turning his attention back to Mumbo. He tugs at Mumbo's jacket, mouthing something unintelligible. Mumbo gets the idea though, and shrugs his jacket off.
His clothes are damp, sticking uncomfortably against his skin. Scar helps him peel layer after layer off, until Mumbo stops him. He grabs Scar's wrists loosely, pushing them backwards. His face is burning, certainly bright red by now.
"Ah, I um, I'll be back in a second." Scar frees himself from Mumbo's hold. He pretends not to miss the contact. He gestures to the bath, nearly full now, then exits the room.
Mumbo takes the hint and finishes undressing himself. His body feels numb, but aches all the while. Stepping into the tub, the sigh of relief is immediate. It's warm, hot even, and it's wonderful.
He can't help but notice the amount of grime that comes off of him though. It leaves the water a bit murky, and he tries his best to recall what happened to him in that forest.
Scar returns moments later, head turned dramatically so he doesn't catch a glimpse of anything. He carries a bowl in one hand, steam rising from whatever is in it. The notebook is tucked under his arm.
Something contracts inside of Mumbo's stomach. Watching Scar cross the room, he imagines the blood flowing throughout his veins. He feels sick.
He's starving.
Scar says something, a playful smile on his face. Mumbo blinks once, then twice, before taking a deep breath. For a second, he felt like his body was about to move on its own and pounce on his friend.
The vex settles on a stool beside the tub, holding a spoonful of what Mumbo assumes is soup. The spoon comes closer, and despite the embarrassment Mumbo feels, he opens his mouth to take it.
The flavor is like a group hug, like Xisuma welcoming him to the server for the first time, like Grian perched on his shoulder. He snatches the bowl from Scar's hand, nearly tipping it into the bath with him in his haste to drink more of it. He thinks he can hear Scar yell in shock, but it sounds like it's underwater.
The bowl is pried out of his hands with little difficulty. Scar sets it down and writes furiously on the notepad, 'You'll be sick if you eat so fast!'
Mumbo simply frowns up at him. He watches Scar sigh, 'Is it okay if I wash your hair?' He glances at the discarded bowl of soup before writing, 'More soup after bath.'
He hides his pout by turning around. Scar taps his arm before scooping up some water with a bath ladle. The water spills down his face, and he can't help but deflate. His shoulders slouch, eyes closed.
"Don't fall asleep, Mumbo."
The warm air tickles his ear, and he jumps away from Scar, who had leaned downwards to speak to him, "I heard that."
Scar is staring at him, surprised at the suddenness of Mumbo's voice, "You heard that?"
Mumbo shakes his head, reaching for the notepad. Water falls down his hands, ruining the previous writings, 'I heard you when you were close.' He shoves it into Scar's face, a small smile creeping up his lips.
Scar smiles big, ruffling Mumbo's hair and saying something out loud. Mumbo settles back into the tub, feeling more relaxed knowing his hearing isn't completely gone.
Warm hands massage shampoo into his hair, and if Mumbo makes any sort of noise during this process, he's blissfully unaware.
By the time the conditioner is rinsed out, Mumbo is thoroughly exhausted. He can't find it in himself to be embarrassed when Scar pulls him up and wraps a towel around his waist.
On their way out the bathroom, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He stops to stare. Scar waits.
Mumbo's ribs are visible, jotting out in a way that can only be described as unsettling. There's a singular white streak in his hair, and most importantly, a bite mark on his neck.
He looks sick. Ugly.
Scar grabs his cheeks, sunken as they are, and squeezes. He looks upset, almost angry. He throws his arms around Mumbo's neck, speaking into his ear like before, "You are not ugly. Don't say stuff like that."
Ah, so he said that aloud. Scar's voice is muddled, but he can make out the emotion in it. Mumbo can't help but rest his chin on the shorter's head, taking a deep inhale of a scent that is so distinctively Scar.
"Sorry."
Bringing his arms around Scar's waist, Mumbo sighs. Here in another person's arms for the first time in ages, he feels okay. His worries, hearing or memory, can wait until tomorrow.
He ignores the hunger eating away at his stomach.
He holds Scar tighter.
✫
Scar helps him get dressed, resisting the urge to kiss the beauty marks littering his skin. The pants are too short, and the shirt is loose, but it doesn't bother Mumbo. He feels completely engulfed by Scar's scent, his warmth.
The fire has died down, crackling quietly. It paints the room in an orange-ish hue, paints Scar like the sunset.
The vex leads him back to the bed he'd woken up on, pushing lightly until Mumbo sits. He watches Scar walk back towards the bathroom, leaning heavily on his cane.
Guilt creeps up on him, forming a lump in his throat. Scar is probably exhausted after all the work he put into taking care of Mumbo. He returns with the previously abandoned bowl of soup, surely cold by now.
Scar pours it back into the pot and turns the stove back on. He stirs it again, unnecessarily focused. Mumbo stares, thinks solemnly that this is the perfect angle for a photo.
Where is his camera?
He... Can't remember. He can't remember how he got the bite mark on his neck, bruised purple and yellow. Mumbo isn't sure why his hearing has gone, or why the chill under his skin never seems to cease.
But he remembers the forest, the snow and the blood, the teeth.
The teeth?
He rubs at the mark on his neck, scrunching his eyes closed as if to help the memories resurface. Scar taps his shoulder, startling him out of his concentration.
Scar points at him, then makes a sphere with his hand, and finishes with what looks like a sideways peace sign with his thumb tucked between his pointer and middle finger.
Mumbo can't help but smile. He makes a fist and shakes it as if shaking his head yes. His sign language has never been too great, but he points to his neck, then brings both of his pointer fingers to make jabbing motions at each other.
With the message affectedly conveyed, Scar grabs the notepad from where ever he'd been hiding it and scribbles something with a smirk on his lips, 'Want me to kiss it better?'
Mumbo is sure his entire face lights up with color. He snatches the notepad from Scar and whacks him, not very hard, on the top of his head.
Scar laughs, the ever present concern on his face slipping into something bright. Mumbo tries not to mourn the sound of it.
They eat some soup together, writing back and forth on the notepad occasionally. Scar writes about all the progress made, the crazy storylines Mumbo has missed. He is a bit disappointed he wasn't there to participate, but he needed the trip away.
He just wishes he could remember how it ended.
Scar tucks him in, patting his head like one would a child. Mumbo can only huff at him. He signs a simple 'good night' before venturing up to the loft where his bedroom is.
Mumbo settles against his pillow, shutting his eyes. He's tired.
Snow crunches under his feet. It's loud, giving away his every move to the thing chasing him.
Mumbo is sweating despite the cold, despite the visible puffs of air he's leaving behind. Footsteps echo behind him, gaining on him until he's suddenly being pushed into the ground, a clawed hand holding him by the neck.
"Eat."
The voice is distorted, almost a growl in itself, "Eat, Mumbo."
"Mumbo!" Scar's voice is shrill enough to ring throughout Mumbo's ears. He sees the vex before him, curled in on himself in bed. He looks terrified.
He looks like prey.
Mumbo stalks across the room perfectly, no stumbling in the dark. He stops at the foot of Scar's bed, staring down at him with glowing red eyes. Scar is shuffling backwards, much like a wounded animal in the wild.
It makes Mumbo want to bite him, rip his throat out and cover himself in the blood spilled. He thinks he growls, saliva pooling in his mouth like never before.
God, he's so hungry. He takes one more step towards the bed, only to have at least three pillows flung directly in his face. "What is wrong with you?!”
He blinks the red from his eyes, coming to. The stillness is oppressive. Mumbo shuffles from foot to foot, confused, “I can’t hear you very well.”
Scar’s expression morphs from one of terror to one of concern. He sits up, then points to Mumbo. His hands move to hover just in front of his chest, one a bit lower than the other. With his fingers spread, he moves them towards each other twice.
Mumbo… Scared him?
He makes a fist, then a circular motion against his chest. Sorry.
Scar still looks spooked, but eventually he sighs and gets up. He pulls Mumbo by the wrist gently, climbing back into bed with Mumbo stumbling after him.
“Is this okay?”
Scar nods in response. Mumbo can see him so clearly in the dark, his exhaustion is evident. He signs sorry again, just for Scar to pull the blankets over them.
They don’t talk about it in the morning, about Mumbo’s icy cold body, or no matter how tight Scar held him, he still shivered until he fell asleep.
✫
Xisuma visits in the morning, wincing as the door creaks open. He calls out quietly, "Scar?" His voice seems to echo throughout the tree, yet he gets no answer.
Stepping into the base, he sees two discarded bowls. Mumbo must've woken up then. He can't help the sigh of relief he lets out.
He feels a bit like a creep, sneaking around Scar's base like this, but he's been worried sick about Mumbo since they found him.
When Xisuma had finally come to in Keralis' base, he'd been inconsolable. Endless ramblings of his so-called mistakes were unbowed even by his closest friend's reassurance.
The rest of the night had been a blur. He thinks he might've thrown up.
Xisuma holds his breath going up the stairs, his heart beating unnecessarily fast each time one squeaks underfoot. He stops at the top, met with an unlikely sight.
Scar lies on his bed like a starfish, arm hanging off the side, blankets strewn half across him. Mumbo is the unlikely sight, face stuffed in the crook of Scar's neck. His arm is thrown over Scar's bare chest protectively.
He hates to wake them, but Mumbo needs a checkup with the closest thing they can get to a doctor. His boots are loud against the wood, and just when he's considering taking them off, something springs at him.
The metal of his helmet hits the ground hard, startling Scar from his slumber with a yelp. Mumbo's grip on Xisuma's arm is bruising, and he shakes in an effort to keep from being pushed completely down.
"When did you get so strong!" Xisuma grunts out. The struggle stops abruptly, with Mumbo staring at him like he doesn't know where he is... "Do you know where you are…?"
"Uh," he looks around, making eye contact with Scar for a second, "Yeah, I do. You... You startled me, X." He climbs to his feet, a sheepish smile on his face.
Xisuma hesitates to take the hand offered to him.
Scar sighs behind them, "I'll get the coffee started."
The three of them sit around Scar's dining table. Mumbo twiddles his thumbs, "So..."
Xisuma cuts him off, "What happened out there, Mumbo?"
"You're not going to believe this, but... I can't remember." The statement comes across as a joke, light-hearted, but Mumbo can feel the disappointment coming off of Xisuma in waves.
"Anything-?"
"Bits and pieces, I guess. I was camping in a forrest. I think something was chasing me... There was ice, and this shriek." He massages his temple, soothing the headache that comes with remembering.
Scar sets his mug down, "That's probably why you couldn't hear anything last night!"
Xisuma whips his head towards Scar, then back towards Mumbo. "What now?"
"Right, uh. When I woke up in the evening, I could hardly hear anything. Loud noises sounded like they were underwater." Mumbo scrunches his eyes together, struggling to speak with the pounding in his head.
Scar slides his tea closer, letting Mumbo wrap his freezing fingers around it. Why is it so cold in here anyway?
Xisuma stands, reaching for his communicator, "I'm going to get Doc to come check you out more thoroughly. Everyone is pretty worried about you, y'know?"
Mumbo did not know, "Really?"
"Yes, really. Don't be silly. I'll bring you back a new communicator in a bit, but maybe you should send out a message via Scar's?" Mumbo nods, staring after Xisuma as he walks towards the exit.
Something heavy hangs in the air, and Mumbo suddenly can’t stand the thought of Xisuma leaving.
Springing out of his seat, Mumbo lunges to hug X. He nearly knocks the man clean over. Of course, Xisuma returns the hug with full force, squeezing tightly around Mumbo's too-skinny frame.
"I missed you," Mumbo admits quietly.
Xisuma takes a step back, staring lovingly at Mumbo, "You know I missed you too." He glances at Scar, still sitting at the table behind them. His expression is understood, unsaid words easily conveyed.
Keep an eye on him.
And Scar will.
The afternoon arrives lazily, casting light through the tree's windows. Mumbo contemplates quietly, enjoying Scar's presence as he flits around. Their eyes meet occasionally, and Mumbo tries his best to ignore the smirk he catches on the vex's face.
It feels almost domestic. Mumbo thinks he could do this forever, but with a ping of Scar's communicator, he's reminded of Doc.
"Doc is on his way here-"
"About last night-"
Scar huffs a laugh, "Don't worry about it. You were just sleepwalking." Mumbo nods, deciding not to tell Scar he's never slept walked a day in his life.
"Right. Just sleepwalking." The silence grows awkward. Mumbo can feel his heart beating, sluggish despite his anxiety. He swears he can hear Scar's beating along with his.
Scar inhales sharply, "Why don't we wait for Doc outside? We've been cooped up here since yesterday."
"Sure."
Scar opens the door for him, smiling all the while. Mumbo squints, adjusting to the brightness annoyingly slowly. Still, the sun is warm on his skin, keeping the chills at bay.
He looks back at Scar, met with an expression so full of emotion. He can't help but fluster at the sight. Scar laughs, taking his hand in his and leading them further away from the tree.
Mumbo can't lie, he feels a bit nervous leaving the starter base. He's yet to send a message via Scar's communicator, so there is a chance they'll be spotted and questioned by concerned hermits.
The vex squeezes his hand, snapping Mumbo from his worried thoughts. There's a simple bench ahead, looking over the shopping district. It's grown a great deal since he'd left.
Mumbo knows that the trip he took was needed, but a part of him wishes he hadn't gone. They sit side by side on the bench, Mumbo listening to Scar's dramatic retellings of all the stories missed.
The sigh that escapes his lips is involuntary, a quiet and unnoticeable thing really.
But of course, it is Scar sitting beside him right now, "You alright, Mumbs?"
"Uh, yeah. I'm fine." Scar raises an eyebrow at him. Mumbo almost wants to curse the vex for being able to read him so well, "Just thinking... Maybe I shouldn't have left at all?"
Scar looks out over the shopping district, "I kind of wish you didn't." He wears a bittersweet smile, "But it was worth it, to have you come back with a fresh mindset and less stress on your shoulders."
Mumbo stares for a long time, confused, "I'm not sure if I came back all that refreshed. It feels a bit like I died and came back to life." The joke gets a chuckle out of Scar, but the atmosphere is still tender, somber.
Without thinking, Mumbo blurts out, "Do you want to come with me next time? You know... if there is a next time." He rubs the bite mark on his neck, suddenly feeling very embarrassed.
"Really?" There is a disbelief in Scar's voice that upsets Mumbo, "Even with this?" He lifts his cane from where it'd been resting.
"Of course. I'd push your wheelchair up a mountain just so you could see the view." The pure truth of the statement has Mumbo eager to add more: "Only if you'd want me too. You're perfectly capable of walking or pushing yourself. I mean if you wanted to use your wheelchair, we'd have to go to a more accessible mountain, but-"
Scar's hands cup his face gently, hushing him immediately, "I would love that, Mumbo. Thank you."
They seem so incredibly close now, it's all Mumbo can think about. His eyes dip down to the vex's lips without his permission, and he swallows the urge to tear them apart. Scar tracks the movement, ever so attentive.
Scar snakes his arms around Mumbo's neck, pulling him down. He goes willingly, not minding when he gets a hug and not a kiss. He feels Scar shudder in their embrace.
It's over as soon quickly as it began, with Scar inhaling slowly as to compose himself. “What was that for?” Mumbo asks in a single breath, a whisper in the gentle breeze.
“I... Missed you…” Scar avoids eye contact, flustered in a way Mumbo isn’t familiar with. He’s always so sociable, oftentimes coy. Seeing him like this, well, it makes Mumbo’s stomach churn. It makes Mumbo want to eat him alive.
The thought sends him reeling. He can feel his mouth watering, hear the blood flowing throughout the vex in front of him. The world around him seems to darken, his eyes set solely on Scar.
It's like he's got tunnel vision, blocking out any distractions from the man in front of him, the meal. Mumbo's lips part without his permission, the urge to sink his teeth into Scar's skin makes him pant.
He feels like a wild animal, starving and desperate, so desperate he'd eat his own best friend.
"Mumbo!"
The shout breaks Mumbo's trance. He snaps his head upwards, watching as Grian dives downwards rapidly. The avian's wings snap open just in time to catch his fall.
"Showing off as always, I see." Mumbo jokes, but Grian is in no mood for it. He storms his way over to the bench, intruding uncomfortably in his and Scar's shared space.
"Do you have any idea how worried I was about you?" His tone has Mumbo shrinking in on himself, "You disappear for months without a single peep, and suddenly you're back and Xisuma is asking for medical help at spawn?"
Scar tries to pipe in, only to be cut off immediately, "I didn't know where you were or what condition you were in, and no one was answering any of my questions!"
The tears that'd been steadily growing in his frustration finally fall, and with a shuddery breath, Grian deflates, resting his forehead on Mumbo's shoulder, "... I'm sorry."
And Mumbo means it. Seeing not just Scar, but Xisuma and Grian so worried over him invokes a familiar feeling in him. Guilt. It covers him completely, hovers even in his happiest moments.
Grian wipes his face with his sleeve, then seats, or shimmies, himself between Mumbo and Scar. They sit quietly for a moment, pretending it's not awkward, "Sorry for yelling." Grian says without looking up from his shoes.
"It's alright. I understand." A few more silent minutes pass, with Mumbo fiddling with his sleeve nervously and Grian swinging his legs. Scar looks like he'd rather be anywhere else.
When it gets to be unbearable, Grian throws his arms around Mumbo with surprising strength, "I'm so glad you're back." Mumbo lets out a shocked chuckle before returning the hug tightly.
"... Me too." He glances up at Scar, smiling before pulling the Vex into the hug.
The three of them stay like that until their backs hurt and there's a crick in their necks.
Doc rounds the corner, stopping short at the sight of three grown men having a group hug, "Am I interrupting something?"