Transporting Scout was not easy.
Scar had brilliantly realised that by using one of his Swaggons, he could create a much larger travelling cart. Scout of course was too large for the cramped interior most of the time- so by removing the walls and roof simultaneously the crew of Boatem now had a transportable wheeled platform. Throwing on some very long bendy sticks of bamboo lashed together as carefully as possible, the crew had assembled something similar to a covered wagon. On the interior, it was nice and dark with squid-ink saturated coverings, but light enough to roll quite easily over the trodden paths built by Bdubs. The horses, large and quite daft, were blissfully unaware of what cargo they hauled in the morning hours. At night, Scout poked his head out quite curiously and adventured short distances from his movable cave. In the morning when the large feathered beast returned, he stashed away little gems procured from the night. A handful of very shiny stones, a button made of emerald lost by someone along the road, a very large hat suspiciously not Scars. On days where the sky became bleak and overcast, Scout grew more restless. The horses refused to pull them, stomping angrily in muddy puddles and tossing their snotty noses. Scout chattered animatedly, only daring to peek his head and neck from the cloth coverings when the heaviest rain painted the world hues of grey.
Scout wasn't too keen on the water. It didn't hurt him- his feathers had a waterproof coating on them although some vanes did split apart oddly, but being wet gave him a strangely fluffy appearance. The usual feathers were no longer glossy, they clumped a bit like locks of hair or a shaggy dog and made little flashes of pale white skin peer from between each quill. Scout grumbled about, preening only with long thin fingers still gangly and disproportionate, combing bits of dirt and water from between each layer. He hadn't used to do that, no hermit was quite sure when he remembered how to preen.
The long trail between builds stretched out. Travelling on horse generally was much faster than escorting the large covered swaggon. What could have been reached in one day turned into two. What should have been a simple ride turned into a small journey filled with flies, dirt, and a weary tailbone. Hours stretched on, small hiccups came far too quickly. A horse stepping on a rock and nearly tripping resulted in Scar nervously checking the poor equine's ankle and hoof. An unexpected thunderstorm halted the road for two days when the dirt paths turned particularly boggy.
Mumbo hadn't ever spent so much time living on bare necessities. He enjoyed his rather elaborate plumbing systems and piles of baked potatoes. He enjoyed sleeping in a warm comfortable bed at night with redstone lamps operating under a single switch. It wasn't as if he had never camped before, but travelling so slowly was horribly demotivating once the small crowd barely reached Fifi's cave. A hard day of flying would have Mumbo back at his megabase. They had barely made any distance at all.
"Aww, don't be so sad," Scar told him cheerfully. "We're living on the high road! We're enjoying life! Come on Mumbo, it isn't all bad!"
Mumbo sighed, his entire body shuddered with the force of his movement. Sitting on the back of the swaggon, he let his legs overhang and dangle above the trampled road. Suit jacket was lost (which was a polite way of saying Scout had stolen it at some point), his shirt was rolled above his elbows and spattered with dirt and dust. His trouser pants were looking a bit more grey than black and his shoes a bit more matte than he remembered.
"Oh, don't look at me like that," Scar teased fondly. The man plucked his hat from his head, holding it to his chest as if swearing to speak the truth. "We've gotten to the Big-Eye coast! Go take a dip in the water, Papa K spent time making those coral coastlines you know!"
Mumbo had a suspicion Keralis spent far too long working on grooming the little underwater reef. The last time he had seen it, when all the hermits met along the pavilion to first discuss Scout, the waters hadn't been touched. Once Scout had been contained within the rude enclosure, Keralis had been busy working up to his neck in the sparkling water.
By now, Keralis likely had built an entire lagoon of underwater caves, tropical fish, and a swim-up bar. Fully stocked with alcohol, of course.
"I'm not sure," Mumbo said. It felt odd to go swim and enjoy the day. He had started to turn into a nocturnal creature at this point- normally due to his concern for transporting Scout. It wouldn't do to have the large feathery fiend become motion sickness. Especially since the group had only seen Scout's actual mouth a rare few times.
"You worry too much," Scar said. He playfully patted Mumbo's shoulder before leaping down off his swaggon. The horses were grazing off the path around a few long tufts of foliage just outside Tango's tree farm. "Relax! It's a long trip to be anxious the whole time!"
Mumbo considered arguing that if he grabbed some rockets and an elytra, he could be home by nightfall. Scar cheerily ignored him and bounded off, pursuing something that caught his eye. Bdubs had been busy- the trees were all modified this far into the Big-Eye territory.
Fifi's cave had once again been renovated. The enormous glass and redstone enclosure had been torn down, no sign of it remaining. The bits of cave that had been remodeled were fixed once more. The interior, to Mumbo's surprise, glowed brightly with orange pools of unearthed lava and large bits of magma stones from the nether. It looked like an entirely new realm, unlike anything Mumbo had seen before.
"Looks pretty good, yeah?" Tango asked him, startling Mumbo from his quiet thoughts. With a loud noise of surprise, the taller man nearly fell upon his rear in surprise. Tango cackled, his hair flickering a bit like a very energetic tail. The shorter man grinned toothily at him, large glasses absent but eyes glowing in the faint light. Despite nether-mobs and nether-hybrids having a notorious reputation, Tango was one of the friendliest people Mumbo knew.
"Are you doing okay?" Tango teased with a wink. "I hope that bumpy wagon ride hasn't bruised your butt too much!"
Mumbo groaned, now very aware of the dull throbbing. "Mate, you don't know the start of it. I swear, if it isn't the wagon it's Impulse's horrible snoring!"
Hastily, Mumbo backtracked. For the smallest of moments, he had forgotten the relationship between Impulse and the man in front of him- even if they were currently in a playful little rivalry. Mumbo spluttered embarrassed: "I mean, not that I'd know at all-."
Tango cackled, throwing his head back. With hearty guffaws, the man wiped aside two small tears from his eyes. "Oh man! Mumbo it's been too long! I'm just messing with ya!"
Tango chortled again, before offering one hand. Mumbo grasped the proffered limb between both of his, shaking it earnestly in an awkward greeting. "I ah- yes? Glad to erm, be here."
"Always glad to have you, buddy," Tango said enthusiastically. "You look a little dirty, maybe just a bit behind the ears? Scar start trying to play travelling games with you yet?"
"Oh goodness, I don't think my two brain cells can handle playing even one more round of 'what block am I looking at?"
Tango's grin twisted into an endearing little crooked smile. Genuine and open, Mumbo found himself smiling in return. Tango shook his head fondly, swiping one hand towards the main attraction of Fifi's cave in an easy gesture. He said: "Well, we can't have that brain turning into mush! I just made a new shulker unloader design- let me show you."
"Oh, please," Mumbo said with open relief. Tango cackled, escorting the taller man across the winding path of deepslate and blackstone.
Tango talked the entire time, narrating his thought process and other decorative decisions. For the first time in quite a while, Mumbo found himself relaxing. Tension he didn't know he had slid from his body, releasing from his neck and behind his ears. The smell of redstone came and went depending on the activity of powered lines, but after so long on the road Mumbo dared to call it refreshing.
"And here is where everything gets unloaded," Tango told him proudly. He smacked a small area boldly labelled input- likely for Keralis who had little to no experience with finicky systems. "And it gets sent out to all of the chests. It isn't a one-item per chest system, more a catalogue for wide assortments."
"Do you have a bulk storage then?"
"Don't need one," Tango said with far too much delight. "Bdub's keeps stealing all the cobble so really I don't have to jam it in anywhere. Never thought I'd love having that shorty around but man, it's convenient."
The two men talked for far longer than Mumbo had expected. It was easy to lose track when fully overwhelmed. Slowly, bits of redstone and systems and t-flip-flops lulled him into an easy content state of existence. Hours passed unnoticed by the two.
Night fell and with it, Scout finally emerged from the thick cocoon of the caravan. He shook off bits of fabric still clinging to him, and stretched leisurely. Once more, he found himself awake in a strange new place. One more, he was struck by the smallest sensation to explore and investigate.
The skies were dark. The world was silent with exception of a few prowling mobs that paid him no mind. It was quiet and peaceful in all ways that day was not- and better yet, it was bitterly difficult to see.
Not that it bothered him. Scout could see in any state- underwater, underground. He could see anything and anyone, although at times the discomfort it brought others wasn't worth it. Sometimes he didn't notice, but he was paying more attention as of late.
The grass was soft below his wings and arms. It still hurt to stand on only lower legs, but he knew this should not be the case. There were things that needed to move and shift and previously he didn't understand how. There was a creature that visited them recently- a human skeleton encased in blue slime, and it was then he began to wonder how to correct his clear anomaly.
He crawled. Old hurts were hurting less and some pains had left him completely. There was no itching agony between his bones or on his skin, the old feathers finally removed and new ones growing in. Some bones still felt strange, but he was accustomed to them.
It was nice outside, damp but not so muddy that it soaked between his wings. There were bugs outside, rattling and singing music that he felt in his vocal cords and echoed to mimic. There was a song to be had here, and he felt so inspired.
Opening one set of eyes, he struggled to perceive. He hadn't chosen wisely- the faint image provided was fractured into a kaleidoscope of colours. Grainy and off putting, it left him disgruntled from such a lacklustre response. It had confirmed enough to satisfy his innate curiosity- there were no humans around.
He spread his wings, exposing the better ways to see. Eyes opened, the world exploded brightly in a thousand shades of knowledge. Colours beyond that of human sight. The glowing awareness of mice and warm bodies running through the grass. The glowing hue of things only seen with screens or devices. Millions of numbers, simplified into something barely different and yet held the secret to all that existed: 01000110110011101.
He allowed a small moment to simply see, to scour and view the sights of the land around him. Constructed of so many different colours, some not native to this area but carefully hauled and crafted into their new forms and shapes. Beautiful, an artist among the humans residing here. He stretched his eyes further, seeing between imagined boundaries set by human perception.
Further- and then he saw.
With a chirp and a song humming deep in his throat, he closed his wings and allowed his vision to recede. It was not necessary here, not when he had seen the location of his friend. Mumbo was within the cave, below the ground with the constructed beast shaped with clay and mud. He was not a fool- he recognized the cave. He understood now how some of it was necessary.
He did not fly but he did flutter. Moving was easier sometimes with heavy flapping and awkward leaping. His joints moved easier, hips aligned and not bent and warped. The talons on his hind feet were reshaped in his sleep, adequate for grasping ground and not bent so unruly.
He scrambled, clattering and scratching. Bits of bark torn free from long claws and feathers left in place. He hummed, keeping an eye surveying the buildings and terracotta in the moonlight. He thought: this is beautiful.
The cave opened before him. Anxiety festered at the sight with reminders of his last entry. He had been scared then, unsure and looking for a new place of hiding. He hadn't known better, he was only curious. He had been foolish and naive but it had rewarded him with help instead of hurt. He had been lesser. He had been shackled by something without a name and without words and without that- he had no knowledge of any alternative.
He didn't like this cave, but recognized its benefit. He had fallen for a trap once and more than likely would fall for a trap again- but now he knew the signs and marks against stone that indicated something unusual. The walls were different, the glow of the cavern floor burned bright of a different molten heat. He stretched open the many eyes across his skin and looked for the unusual indicators of something malicious in the works.
"Gah!" cried a new unfamiliar voice, unique and rasping. It crackled, emanating from a startled angular face with sharpened teeth. He saw glowing eyes and unruly hair eerily reminiscent of fire. The longer he observed, the more the creature shuddered and trembled below his sight, skin paling and golden vibrancy dulling below the rock.
"Tango?" asked Mumbo. The sound was quieter, echoing off rock walls and hanging stalactites. Peering wider, he spotted his friend shudder within his sight. Apologetically, Mumbo grasped the creature's shoulder and he read Mumbo's lips. Sorry about that, I hadn't thought he'd follow me here.
The words rang audibly a second after Mumbo spoke them. The echo delayed itself, trapped in the limitations of soundwaves where his eyes had no such restraints. He watched curiously, briefly investigating the lines of red wires and machinery he could not understand. So many boxes and containers, but he couldn't see inside those that were completely full.
Mumbo was speaking once again, mouth moving an entire second before the delayed muffled voice registered through ears. Tango? Are you alright?
And yes, he did recall that name. He knew the name, he knew the face. Nights with Impulse outside of his cave, sitting on blankets or on a bench with the two creatures that accompanied him- the small blonde human that talked quickly and the other angular one with a hoarse rasping laugh- Tango.
Suspicion and anxiety slowly relaxing, he closed his eyes. He knew where they were, and knew that distress came with his sight. Mumbo was here with Tango. The two were friends, they were calm and gentle with one another. There was no fear or threat to be had inside this cave, no markings of a trap or box. The stone floor of the cave was warm on his limbs, not uncomfortable but enough he lifted what joints he could to avoid any strange burning. Mumbo and Tango were in the middle of the cave below the statue of something larger than life. He stretched what weak bones and muscles he could and glided with large bounding leaps. On silent wings, he scrambled inside across carved stone and forced himself within the small interior.
"Oh my-," Tango shrieked, hair stiffening like the hair on a cat's neck. He jumped, arms spinning around him frantically to remain standing upright. Mumbo assisted, grabbing Tango quickly around the ribs to keep him upright.
"Oh! Oh that got me, that definitely got me!" Tango shouted, voice comically high in pitch yet maintaining a distinct rasp. He blinked below the feathers, unnoticed by others. Cocking one head, he gazed at Mumbo with silent judgement.
"Oh, don't look at us like that," Mumbo stated, looking a tad embarrassed by the entire ordeal. "You caught us off guard! I thought you'd be out exploring the coast, not this cave again!"
"Yeah buddy!" Tango squeaked hastily. "Didn't think you'd be back here anytime soon!"
He hadn't wanted to either, but he had been curious. His throat and jaw did not feel correct, still undeniably wrong although he didn't know how. Words did not come easy to him, but names and sounds were easier. He could steal a voice but he knew there was still an alternative.
Awkwardly, he stated in a rasping brutal noise: "Tango."
The shorter man blinked quickly, eyebrows lifting in open surprise. "Oh! Yeah uh, hey there little buddy! That's uh, that's me!"
"You're very social today," Mumbo told him, his moustache quivering in amusement. "You having a good day then?"
It took a moment to process, for the meaning to set in. Recognition and response came quicker now, it was something he was proud of. "Yes."
"That's good to hear!" Tango stated, bouncing on his toes. "You wanted to see my storage area? We all share it here, little guy. I'd offer you something but not quite sure what you'd like."
"Don't let him go pillaging, you'll never find your resources again," Mumbo stated. Reaching out with one hand towards him, he reached back with a smaller feathery wing adhered to the side of his skull. He stretched it, letting it brush lightly against the human knuckle. He chirped, for emphasis.
"It's great to see you so lively, bud," Tango told him sincerely. "It's a little cramped in here, how about we make our way outside. Is that okay?"
"Fine with me," Mumbo said easily. That meant it was fine with him.
Tango laughed, smacking the back of his hand against his thigh. The man beamed widely, face alighting in bright thrilled glee. Each tooth was serrated on the lowest point, yet still flat enough to not leave his mouth an awkward mess. A bit like a shark, or a dog.
"Come on you two!" Tango cried out, guiding the path along the magma blocks and climbing stairs. "Don't slip! It's real lava!"
"I figured that one out the hard way!" Mumbo shouted, looking a bit worse for wear with sweat gleaming across his brow. The cave was stuffy, warm and humid despite the thick heat and only a scarce amount of water.
Fresh air felt blissful across their warmed skin. Night had dropped the temperature lower, letting puffs of breath exhale into the sky. Tango watched with some bafflement as little wisps of vapour danced between hundreds of feathers obscuring Scout's head.
"You look like you're trying to stop a leaking bucket with a pile of leaves," Tango said before winking. "Except the leaves are your feathers and uh, the water is all that steam heading upwards."
"Kind of a complex analogy," Mumbo joked, patting Tango on his shoulder. Heaving a heavy sigh of relief, Mumbo stretched both arms boldly above his head. In the night, the man's fair skin practically glowed.
Tango gazed across the bay of the Big Eye crew. Lampposts had been constructed at strategic locations across the stone pavers and coral siding. Each stucco and terracotta façade gleamed a different colour in the darkness, still gorgeous and unique in its own way. The ocean was calm and gentle, sea pickles illuminating the coral reef and tropical fish below the swell of each wave. Towards the pagoda built near the floating houseboat which framed the nether portal, Pearl and Scar were fiercely in battle with two men wearing floatation devices on each arms.
"I see Keralis broke out the water wings," Tango teased with a small giggle. "That's how you know he isn't playing around!"
The water splashed, dolphins leaping into the black surface. Illuminated only by occasional lanterns along the coast, the night blanketed the bay with an exotic gentleness.
Yet, it was not all serene. Mumbo gnawed on his lower lip, unable to resist temptation. With a shudder of dread, he turned his head to stare upwards into the starry sky.
Tango noticed his resignation and with a small sigh of his own, he too offered an expression of sympathy. "I know, my man. It keeps getting bigger, huh?"
"Yeah," Mumbo agreed quietly.
The moon had gotten larger, approaching at a rate that was quite horrifying when considering the actual astronomical distance. It had once been able to be obscured if Mumbo closed one eye and held up the pad of his thumb. Now, he didn't want to test it out of fear for what he would find.
"We still have time, it's all good!"
"Yeah, I guess," Mumbo agreed lamely. He swallowed thickly, unable to stop the fear he felt.
Scout shuffled, rustling next to him. With an odd slur to his words in a voice uniquely his yet reminiscent of only pain, Scout said: "moon big."
Tango nodded sagely. "Moon is big."
Scout rumbled, chirping a bit like a chicken. With a little sound of disgruntlement, the creature began to oddly crawl his way down the initial rock steps until he found himself a stone bench carved from blackstone and andesite. He hauled himself up, curling enormous talons around the lip of the stone seat. Tango joined him- there was not enough space to sit considering the wings and feathers, but the sentiment was obvious.
"It's nice to see you so talkative, buddy," Tango said. His curiosity quite evident, the man asked a little teasingly: "so uh, how have you been doing? Eat any interesting seeds? Smash any pumpkins?"
Scout shifted, rotating his hidden head as if a dog. He shuffled about, flexing and curling his toes while he considered Tango's question. "Good."
"You've been good?" Tango asked, trying to clarify. "And that's your voice, right? Not like, some weird mix of crazy sounds smooshed together, right?"
Scout paused. After the appropriate pause, he responded. "Good. Mine."
"Yours!"
"Mine," Scout agreed simply. "Yours Tango."
The man blinked twice before he comprehended. "Oh, I get it! Yeah, I mean, I'm Tango if that's what you mean."
Scout hummed a gentle noise, clearing his throat as he repeated a tad more clearly. "You are Tango."
"I sure am," Tango agreed, smiling so wide it looked like it would split his face apart. "Do you know where you are? Like, this cove?"
Mumbo opened his mouth, about to protest. It might not be the best idea to remind Scout of all his potential-trauma. Even if Scout was having a good day, it wouldn't be nice to upset him.
Yet, Scout didn't appear upset. He spread a pair of wings- his middle set located at his lower back. Lifting the smaller wings and spreading them only gave Tango the smallest glance of a thin waist and pale skin revealed below an oddly shaped red toga of fabric. The wings spread wider, exposing the pale underside and bits of moulting down. Some bits shifted oddly, wiggling under a movement of their own.
"Oh, those are eyes," Tango squeaked. Mesmerized, the man failed to look away. One rotated in its socket to stare directly from the apex of Scout's wing- the eye almost as large as Tango's fist.
"You're looking at me," Tango said. "Oh, oh I don't know if I like that at all."
"Hi," Scout said, blinking the eye in question. Tango made a small noise, his hair once more standing up on end.
Scout closed his wings, folding them with a more graceful movement. They nestled against his back better, no longer asymmetric or gangly. Tango was unsure if he should say anything out loud, but Scout looked entirely new.
"The box," Scout said quite plainly. "Bright. The box here."
"Uh, yeah," Tango said, the truth of his question turning his voice a bit uncomfortable. "Sorry about that bud. It was for a good reason but-."
"Yes," Scout interrupted him. "Thank you."
Tango went silent. Mumbo felt something sit heavily in his chest, too burdensome to fight. It left him mute, suffocating his words.
Scout looked upwards, presumably staring at the large moon in the sky. With a small ruffle, his tail-wings fluffed slightly as if attempting to intimidate a foe. Scout huffed, a small expression of such normal irritation it felt surreal to hear. Mumbo felt like crying.
"Thanks," Scout said after a pause, still looking upwards. "Was…hurt. No words. Thank you, the box. No hurt."
Tango swallowed thickly, his eyes shiny. "Oh, well…it- it wasn't just me."
Scout hummed a small curious thing, such a Grian-esq noise it ached to hear. Mumbo felt his breath catch, his chest tightening beneath his sorrow.
"Thank you Tango," Scout addressed directly. "Thank you Mumbo."
Mumbo nodded, unable to speak. Tango similarly nodded, babbling random words as if to dismiss the gratitude all while sniffling noisily. Scout huffed once more, somehow endeared.
He still stared at the sky.
"What er- what are you looking at?" Tango asked once recovered. His voice remained wet, nose sniffling every odd minute or so.
Scout said rather damningly. "Eyes."
" Eyes?" Mumbo asked, squinting into the starry sky. "I don't- are there any phantoms out?"
"No," Scout said dismissively. " Them."
The word came with such unexpected loathing, it stunned Tango into silence. Mumbo felt as if he was hearing a voice from a ghost, whispering in his ear with the same scathing irritation. The same emphasis, slight accented curl to each vowel. Them! Oh they're the worst!
"...Them?" Tango asked worriedly. Squinting to look above. "I- I'm sorry I don't…"
Scout's last set of wings bristled, fluffing up. The creature opened one set of wings bracketing his face, then after a moment spread another. Only one set of wings hid his expression, curled protectively as if palms against each cheek. He said unprompted: "I see you."
Tango shakily locked eyes with Mumbo, looking both frightened and confused. Hastily, the man fumbled for his communicator, fishing it out nervously. "I- I'm going to message X."
"And- and tell him what exactly?" Mumbo croaked. "That- that there are invisible eyes? What- what would he even do? "
"Well there's gotta be something there!" Tango argued, hissing just above a whisper. "Maybe something snuck onto the server or has been following you or-."
"Eyes," Scout stated ominously. " Them."
"What are they doing?" Mumbo asked.
Scout spoke with rage, fury, and undeniable pain. "Watching."
"Oh god," Tango said, looking ill. He clutched the communicator in his hands, grasping it subconsciously. "They found him."
The hermits hadn't particularly taken efforts to hide Scout. They had believed in some aspect that if Grian hadn't been found for so long, then surely the server was well hidden. Generally it was, but at some point they had messed up. At some point, either entering or exiting, the firewalls had lowered and clearly that was enough for all the unwanted attention.
Mumbo very quickly sat down. He settled himself with legs crossed on the dirt, suit trousers already dusty from the ride. Normally a tall man, sitting down, his head came just level with Tango's ribcage.
"They found him," Mumbo repeated numbly, struggling to either understand or process the information. "So…they- they're just going to…to what? Break in? Attack us?"
Scout tensed, feathers ruffling. He exhaled in a scoff as if offended by the words. The bird bristled, peering upwards at the sky. Tango ran both hands through his hair, looking rather distressed by the idea.
"Is it smart to go to the End?" Mumbo asked, babbling at this point. "Isn't that closer? Is that even safe? Oh pants- what do we even do?"
"Well, they can't be that powerful, right?" Tango asked shrilly, rapidly typing on his communicator. "Like, X just said that we're safe on the server. We should be safe but-."
"Safe," Scout stated abruptly. Something in his demeanor changed. It shifted, tensed and straightened into something dangerously focused and serious. Still looking skywards, the wings and feathers pulled away. Mumbo had seen every emotion on Grian's face- or he thought he had.
Grian had never looked so determined before. There was no rage or twisted fury. No furious flush or tensing of his jaw. The man looked upwards, unremarkable beyond an exceptional bedhead and feathers sprouting from random patches of his face. He looked almost serene, with a flat unaffected expression and the gentle parting of old chapped and cracked lips. His eyes were closed, which potentially was the oddest fact of it all. The two eyes, the boring ones that all people had right below their eyebrows in the middle of their face, rested blind.
"Scout?" Tango asked, shifting worriedly before trying with more open anxiety, "uh…G-man?"
Mumbo trembled. He didn't stand. He stared upwards at his friend's face, so absurd and surreal to see on the neck and body of something feathered and odd. It felt uncomfortable, wrong.
"Grian?" Mumbo asked, his voice wavering in and out. "I-...are you okay?"
Those eyelids opened, only half lidded. They were remarkably glassy and somewhat dull looking. More concerningly, they radiated an odd hue of purple not unlike crying obsidian. Glowing in the night, they gazed upwards at the stars and the ever-approaching moon.
Grian smiled, something wry and bitter that curved one side of his mouth into an expression Mumbo had seen a dozen times- when Grian's buildings weren't working, when he tried hours at an idea and made no progress. When he struggled again and again but refused to back down.
Grian stated, bitterly and uniquely himself: "all they ever do is watch."