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The air is fresh, a little damp with lingering dewdrops from the morning. The sun keeps the mountain chill at bay, as does Mumbo and Scar's trek uphill. They're near their destination, an outlook where they plan to settle for lunch. It overlooks the treetop covered hills below.
A particularly steep step up has Mumbo turning to offer his hand for Scar, which he takes. "What a gentleman." He says, stopping to kiss Mumbo's temple before passing, who huffs amusedly.
"That's what I'm here for." They continue upwards, supporting one another up the slippery rocks before the path evens out. Critters squirm underfoot. Mumbo watches as a beetle just barely escapes the wrath of Scar’s shoe.
"What, am I not capable on my own?" Scar asks, knowing full well the man behind him can't see his cheeky grin. He laughs when Mumbo starts to flounder over his words, "I'm joking, love. I know you're here for the company." A wink thrown over his shoulder makes them both giggle.
They come to stand side by side, brushing shoulders multiple times before Scar pries Mumbo's freezing fingers away from his backpack straps. He cups the vampire's hand within his, bringing them up to his mouth to breathe on.
Mumbo watches, doesn't tell Scar that the warmth of his breath is wasted. He knows, and he drops their intertwined hands between them after a second. They'll warm up eventually, with prolonged contact. He squeezes, and Mumbo squeezes back twice.
There's no snow here, nor any ice, just slick mud, and a bit of humidity that isn't unpleasant. The sun filters through the leaves, light falling onto them in odd shapes. The shadows of the leaves paint the ground.
Silently, Mumbo brings the camera around his neck up to snap a quick few photos. He'd lost the photos from his previous trip, but he can't say he minds. He'd been smart enough to download any before that if anything went wrong.
Grian had offered to go fetch his old camera for him while they're between seasons, but he declined. The chances of it working after being submerged in snow for so long were improbable. Even if it did work, he wasn't sure he wanted to look at what it contained.
Back on that mountain, he had taken pictures of the wildlife, of the wintery landscape. He remembers being so entranced, so excited by such natural beauty. Who knew what stained it, or what lurked in its shadows?
Mumbo stares at the ground, not really seeing as Scar takes another steep step. He uses the roots as stairs, gripping his free hand onto a tree to keep himself steady. Mumbo goes to follow, though his head is elsewhere, and he loses his footing on a particularly slippery root.
Scar, thankfully, still has his hand in a vice. He pulls Mumbo forward, a tad too harsh, as they end up in a heap on the ground regardless. "You okay?" Scar asks, staring up at Mumbo with concern.
"Yeah, no, I'm good." He untangles their limbs, breaking their handhold to fidget with his own fingers.
"You sure? You seemed a bit spacey for a minute there." Scar asks, nudging closer. He's holding his breath, waiting for something. A panic attack, or flashback, anything. He's just glad he managed to catch Mumbo before he could hit his back. That never ends well.
Mumbo nods, "Hm, was just thinking. Got a little caught up, I guess."
A scarred hand rubs up and down his arm. "Well, why don’t we take a break, seeing as we're already down here?" Taking his water bottle out, Scar releases the breath he'd been holding. He takes a sip, then offers it to Mumbo, who accepts with a small thanks.
Scar watches as he drinks, eyes lingering on the way his throat bobs, the dampness of his lips. The hand that'd been running along his arm comfortingly slides to his neck, where Scar dips his fingers past the collar of Mumbo's shirt.
"Y'know, we're the only ones out here-"
"Absolutely not."
He lets out a whine, "You wound me, Mumbo. I need a morale boost to keep me going!"
"The adrenaline from falling isn't enough?" Scar shakes his head frantically, then gives his lover the best pout/puppy-eyes he can manage. Mumbo rolls his eyes fondly, but eventually gives in. A small peck, then a longer kiss that Scar can't help but smile into.
He pulls the vampire closer by the nape, getting a surprised noise in return. It makes him laugh enough that he has to break the kiss off completely. He looks up to find an adoring smile upon Mumbo's face, though his eyes are burning a brighter red by the second. It makes Scar's stomach feel funny.
"Think..." He trails off, distracted. His thoughts are turning to mush the longer he looks at Mumbo. They break eye contact when Scar's hand slips from the vampire's neck, and he tries again, "Think I can keep going now."
It gets a bark of laughter out of Mumbo, who retreats back into his own personal space. He caps the forgotten water bottle, handing it back to Scar. "We should get going now, anyway. I could eat."
The rest of the walk is uneventful. They chat some, point out cool bugs. Mumbo nearly touches poison ivy, which sparks a conversation of whether it would have any affect on an undead, which sparks even more conversation on whether he's actually undead or not.
They reach the outlook eventually, only having to stop once so Scar could get his cane out. There's no fence along the edge of the area. Mumbo catches Scar's wrist when he gets a little too close. They're not on Hermitcraft, after all. If they took a tumble from this height, that would be it for them.
"We could do this back home, too." Scar speaks into the gentle breeze.
Mumbo hums, "We could, but it's not the same. There're no isolated tourist attractions, or isolated cabins to rent."
"Don't say isolated, it makes it seem like you brought me out here to kill me." The vampire stays silent long enough for Scar to tear his eyes away from the view. He's met with a cheeky smile, sharp canines poking past his lips. "Oh, quit that."
"That was my evil plan all along!" Mumbo laughs around his words, and Scar elbows him in the side lightly before joining in.
They marvel at the view a little longer, until Scar's stomach announces its hunger loudly. Dropping their bags, Mumbo digs for a thin blanket that they lay out further back from the cliffside. Scar basically dumps his pack out, and a bunch of well packaged baked goods litter the blanket.
"Made your favorite." Scar mutters, handing over some cookies. "Have you tested any other foods other than my cooking? Like fruit."
"Hm, not yet. Golden carrots were tolerable, but mostly out of necessity."
Scar pulls a container of cherries out of a separate compartment of his bag. Mumbo catches sight of a blood bag, suppresses a shudder. At least Scar thinks of his well-being, maybe even more so than Mumbo himself.
He's offered a cherry, "Try these?" Scar goes ahead and takes a bite out of his own, and Mumbo feels his whole body go rigid as the juice stains his lips, spills onto his chin. It's dark, crimson colored. Mumbo swallows, steels himself where he sits.
This... This hunger is still something he's getting used to. His eyes latch onto Scar's, and his ears seem to tune into the man's pulse points. His teeth feel too big for his mouth. In his hand, the cherry Scar'd given him is crushed, dripping onto the blanket below them.
Then Scar is looking away, snatching his head away from Mumbo's gaze. It almost makes Mumbo growl, some primal instinct in him unhappy with this. Scar comes over to him then, blood bag in hand. "You want to eat."
"Mhm. What- What type of blood?"
He's handed the tube, or straw in this case. Scar holds the bag for him. "Pig's. Heard that was good for you." Mumbo drinks quietly, trying not to grimace. "Don't you think you become famished far too quickly?"
"I don't know."
"Angel, I really don't know if animal blood is the way to-"
Mumbo cuts him off, "It's fine. It works fine. We've just been hiking all morning." The blood is nearly gone now. His stomach feels queasy. He looks up at Scar. The juice has been wiped away, leaving a faint pink along his skin.
Wait-
"Did you swallow that cherry pit?" Mumbo asks, face contorting in horror when Scar nods.
"What, is that bad?" The blood bag is discarded to the side, empty. Mumbo runs his hand down his face. "Is that bad?" Scar repeats, pitch growing higher with concern.
An involuntary smile crosses his lips. He hides it with the hand that isn't covered in juice. "Yeah, super bad."
"You're pulling my leg." Scar knocks his hand away, revealing his barely concealed amusement. "I thought I was a goner or something! Don't do that."
"Sorry, sorry."
They settle down to revel in Scar's baking. Mumbo tries a cherry, then tries a couple other fruits. They're deemed as okay, better than carrots. He stops ogling Scar's neck, opting to ogle at his face instead.
It's peaceful. The weight of last season is beginning to slip from his shoulders, and an excitement he hasn't felt in a long time blooms within him. His mind feels fresh, ideas coming to him with ease.
From his bag, Mumbo grabs a sketchbook. He scoots closer to Scar until their knees are touching, then flips the book open. Drawings of business cards, buildings, and logos litter the page. There's even a landscape.
Scar points to it, "I can help you with this if you want."
"Thanks," Mumbo smiles to himself, putting pencil to paper, "But I think I'm okay."
A hum of acknowledgment. Scar gets his own sketchbook out, "What do you think of trains?"
They lock eyes, share a grin. Mumbo leans in to kiss Scar's cheek, staying close when he responds, "I like trains, as long as it's next to a small town."
"That can be arranged."
The clouds pass over them lazily. The sun is well in the sky now, and Mumbo wonders if he should reapply his sunscreen. His body is warm where it's flush with Scar's. He lets a sigh slip past his lips, content.
After some comfortable quiet, filled only by the noises of nature and their pencils, Mumbo stills. "Scar," He starts, waiting until the man in question ceases his led strokes, "I love you."
Scar discards the sketchbook as a whole, dropping his pencil onto the blanket to hold Mumbo's face. His touch is so very gentle for hands so scarred. Though, he does look like he's barely holding it together.
His thumb brushes over Mumbo's cheekbone lovingly. "I love you, too. So much." A laugh bubbles out, accompanied by some tears. "Those are happy tears, right?"
Mumbo kisses him.