#grian is the one pulling on scars lead throughout it all hes dragging him to blow things up and kill people and scar goes along with it

[moon1ee]

its so sad that im the only one who understands 3l desert duo

[hopepetal]

Part One | Part Two | Part Three (you are here!)

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@applestruda

Impulse had never really had any trouble getting to sleep.

Sure, it was a different story during the occasional “sleepover” with the rest of the knights, when they talked for hours and then passed out under the stars, but for the most part, Impulse was a good sleeper. A light one, but he had no trouble getting to sleep at all. Spending most of his day out and exercising consistently had its perks, after all. 

Over the past week or so, however, Impulse had been having a bit of trouble. Not with falling asleep, or even staying asleep as he sometimes did. He found himself falling asleep and waking up at the same times as he always did, but with one issue.

Impulse was exhausted. 

He would wake up from a long rest and feel as though he’d hardly slept a wink. The exhaustion would continue throughout the day, clouding his mind and pulling at his limbs like a lead weight. At first, he just chalked it up to overdoing it in his training, or maybe not going to sleep early enough. But as the days went by and the exhaustion got worse and worse, Impulse found that he was beginning to fray at the edges, breaking down bit by bit. 

Finally, after nearly falling asleep during lunch time, Impulse asked the rest of the knights for help. 

“I just…” He gestured helplessly at nothing in particular. “I don’t know what to do. Nothing seems to fix this.”

Pearl shared a concerned glance with Grian, who had actually woken up early for once. Not that he had been very happy about it, but nonetheless, here he was. “And you’ve tried going to bed earlier, yeah?” Pearl asked, to which Impulse nodded. “Hmm… this could be a real issue, mate. That’s not good.”

“Do you think it’s insomnia?” Grian asked, and Impulse shrugged.

“I’ve been falling asleep perfectly fine,” he explained, “and I’ve had no trouble at all staying asleep. It’s just… my sleep isn’t good.”

Scar leaned forward. “I was gonna go visit Cub today, if you’d like to come with me,” he offered, “he’ll probably know what’s going on, and have something for you.”

Impulse let out a shaky sigh, and nodded. “Yeah. That sounds good. Thank you, Scar.” It had been a while since he had seen Cub, as well. It would be nice to say hi, maybe catch up a little. “When were you thinking of heading out?”

Scar smiled. “Just after lunch! Not that we have to rush, of course, but I’d like to get there before the night falls,” he joked, “we all know that you and I would be defenseless– defenseless, I say!– against the big baddies of the night.”

Mumbo looked very concerned for a moment. “Don’t you have a bow, Scar?”

“Of course he does,” Grian piped up, “he’s just being silly.” 

Pearl sighed, though she was smiling. “I hope everything goes well, Impulse. Sleep is very important, y’know.”

“Well you would know that, wouldn’t you,” Grian muttered, squawking when Pearl smacked him with one of her wings. “Oh, you–!” 

Pearl jumped back from the table and took off into the air, Grian following close behind. Impulse watched them with raised eyebrows and a smile, before glancing over at Scar. “I think that’s our cue to head out.” 

Scar giggled, nodding in agreement. “Take her out, Grian!” he shouted up to the two, before Impulse decided now was probably a good time to drag him away before he got involved as well. 

They left Mumbo, who looked rather terrified to be in this whole situation, to keep watch over camp and make sure Grian and Pearl didn’t accidentally destroy everything. It probably wasn’t going to happen, but better safe than sorry.

The horses were unusually vocal as Impulse and Scar approached the stables, and Impulse’s horse even backed away from him before he was able to calm it down. 

“Maybe the storm last night got them spooked,” Scar pointed out, “or maybe there were mobs around last night.” He sounded a little more unconvinced on the second one, and Impulse didn’t blame him. Not only were the stables a well lit area, but Grian and Pearl seemed to have a secret sixth sense when it came to knowing when mobs were around. 

With that little setback out of the way, Impulse and Scar set off to Cub’s house. He wasn’t very far away from them– far enough to warrant needing a horse, especially when one was exhausted, but not far enough to make the trip unbearably long. Still, Impulse wasn’t exactly feeling the best, and his responses to Scar’s idle chatter weren’t very interesting.

Finally, they made it to their destination, and left their horses in the same place they always did. Scar didn’t even bother knocking, announcing his arrival by throwing the door open and calling out, “honey, I’m home!”

Impulse followed Scar in, making sure to carefully shut the door behind him. As soon as he walked into the small, cottage-esque type building, he was hit with the smell of drying herbs and greenery. It always managed to astound him how Cub lived in such a dry environment but kept his house and the area around it so lush and vibrant. 

Everything looked to be relatively the same to how it had been when Impulse had last visited Cub. The wall where he kept his dried herbs was plastered with even more recipes than the last time, with notes scribbled on the papers in unintelligible handwriting. The desks were just a little messy as always– Cub was never one to leave his work for long, so he really never saw the point in putting it away. The only area that was truly immaculate was the area where he made his potions, and the cozy spot he always kept available for patients, should the need arise.

Cub appeared from around the corner, holding some books. “Hello, Scar– oh, Impulse, too. What’s happening?” he asked almost immediately after, suspicious. 

Impulse laughed wearily. “Hi, Cub. Can’t a man say hello without needing anything?”

Cub sighed, placing down his books on the desk. “Mm, not when it comes to you knights.” His small smile told Impulse he was only teasing, and he leaned against the desk. “Also, you look terrible, man.” He looked Impulse up and down, his smile dropping slightly. There was something akin to concern in his eyes, but something deeper there as well.

“Thanks,” Impulse muttered, before glancing over at Scar. “Is it really that bad?”

Scar grimaced slightly. “Let’s just say you didn’t always have bags under your eyes.”

Cub hummed softly, already looking through some of the herbs on his wall and going through the recipes stuck on there. “You’ve been experiencing insomnia?” he asked, not even turning back to glance at Impulse.

“Not exactly,” Impulse clarified, “I’ve been getting sleep, but I always wake up feeling exhausted. It’s been happening every night for the past week or so, and I just… I don’t know what to do anymore. Scar suggested coming here for help, so…”

Cub nodded. “Mhm. Okay, I getcha, I getcha. There’s quite a few things that could cause this. High stress, not drinking enough water, a nutrient deficiency… the list goes on.” He began to gather some herbs, having clearly found the recipe he needed. “Say, Scar,” he said casually while placing ingredients into his brewing stand, “would you mind summoning Jellie? I haven’t seen her in a while.”

Scar grinned. “Of course, my good man! I’ll bet she’s been missing you, too. C’mere, Jellie!”

As soon as the blue furred familiar was summoned into existence, something in Impulse screamed “danger, danger, get out of there” with such ferocity that he sucked in a breath and stepped back. Clearly, the feeling was mutual for Jellie, because the minute she saw him, she hissed. Something that Impulse was almost certain she had only ever done to those she considered a “threat”.

Scar instantly scooped Jellie up into his arms, scolding her. “Bad girl! Bad Jellie! That is a friend! We don’t hiss at friends!”

Cub said nothing, but Impulse felt his gaze rest on him for a moment before he went back to making the potion. “I’m going to give you enough to last for a week. I want you to take some before you go to sleep every night. Come back after a week, or if things get worse.”

Impulse was still on edge, but hearing that did help to ease his nerves. “Thanks, Cub.” He glanced over at Scar and Jellie, who was still very displeased with his presence. “I’ve just been feeling so awful lately. I really hope this works.”

“Of course man, of course,” Cub responded absentmindedly, finishing up the potion. “Alright. Here it is.” He handed the potion to Impulse, who carefully stored it in his bag. “Scar, has everything been alright?”

“As well as it has been!” Scar answered cheerfully, still holding Jellie close. “I’m doing great, really. Mostly came here just to say hi and help out Impulse over here. And I missed you, of course.”

Cub just gave Scar a smile. “You could visit more often, man.”

“Very good point, very good point…”

Impulse excused himself to step outside while the two chatted, feeling much better once he was outside and away from… whatever had happened, inside that house. He could feel the demon lingering in his mind– it wasn’t speaking, but it was there, and Impulse wasn’t sure if that was something he liked. 

Eventually Scar did come back out of the house, Jellie nowhere in sight. Impulse assumed Scar had dismissed her, but didn’t bring it up. They said goodbye to Cub and then mounted up, beginning the ride home in silence.

“I’m sorry about that whole… Jellie thing,” Scar eventually said, “she’s never… I don’t know why she’s acting like that.”

Impulse shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, really. I promise I’m not taking any offense to it. Cats are finicky, you know.” But Jellie wasn’t a normal cat. Impulse tried to forget about that. “Thanks for coming out with me.”

“Of course!” Scar chirped, “glad to be of service!”

When they got back to camp, Impulse was glad to see that Grian and Pearl hadn’t destroyed anything– though Mumbo was looking a little more frazzled than usual. The sun was just beginning to set, and Impulse and Scar had their dinner together while they caught up on the day’s events with Grian.

Right before bed, as instructed, Impulse took a dose of the medicine Cub had made for him. The exhaustion that had been weighing him down all week came crashing back into focus, and Impulse was hardly able to keep his eyes open long enough for him to put away the bottle and lay down. 

That night, he dreamt of falling from a great height.

–

The medicine did not work.

At first, Impulse thought maybe he hadn’t taken enough. So he took more the next night. And the next. Until finally, the medicine that was supposed to last him a week was emptied in four days. 

It got to the point where he slept in later than Grian after falling asleep earlier than Pearl. When he woke up, feeling as though he hadn’t slept a wink, Impulse could barely stop tears of frustration from welling up in his eyes and spilling over, anxiety and anger sitting tight in his chest and making him gasp for air. 

He had lost the will and the energy to train, just barely able to pull himself out of bed and get something to eat. Not that he could even eat much anymore– food was unappetizing, and Impulse found himself eating less and less.

The other knights were more than a little concerned, particularly Pearl. She’d asked Impulse if he needed any help, or wanted to talk, or if there was anything she could do. Impulse had just shaken his head and told her it wasn’t anything she could help with.

On more than one occasion, Impulse considered going back to Cub. But something about that made every fiber of his being recoil in a mixture of fear and disgust. Impulse wasn’t sure if it was directed toward Cub, or toward himself for being so weak.

He was almost certain it was the latter.

–

Scar was definitely worried.

I mean, who wouldn’t be? His friend was clearly going through something really difficult, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. What he thought was going to work clearly wasn’t helping, and Impulse was just getting worse by the day.

…the fact that Jellie had hissed at Impulse was also cause for concern. She had never done that before– not at Impulse, or any of Scar’s friends. Only at those she deemed untrustworthy and dangerous. Honestly, Scar wouldn’t have been surprised had she hissed at him, even. He was dangerous! 

But still. The fact that Jellie had even hissed at Impulse at all wasn’t something Scar was going to take lightly. Especially not when Impulse had clearly not been himself for the past… however long it had been. Almost two weeks, maybe.

When things got a little too crazy, Scar usually ended up sitting on the ground and staring out at nothing, lost in his own thoughts. Sometimes he stood up, if he was feeling a little restless. Today was one of those days where he was too restless to sit, and decided that standing was a much better option. 

It was a nice day out. Warm, with a breeze coming from the south that promised rain later that day. Scar liked the rain, but knew Grian and Pearl weren’t all too pleased. Which, fair, wings getting wet was a nightmare, but it wasn’t like they were going to melt! Now that would be scary. 

Caught up in his thoughts, Scar was too busy thinking about whether it was possible for people to melt to pay attention to the world around him. That was, until a visceral feeling of panic shot through him, and Scar tensed up. He could feel the vex magic swirl around inside him, rising up in a reactive response to the pure bloodlust coming from someone, something. 

It was right behind him. He had to– had to run there was no running no running from this you can’t escape you can’t hide– had to fight impossible you stand no chance it’s hopeless you’ve lost the minute it’s seen you you’re dead–

“Hey, Scar?”

Scar whipped around, fear striking like lightning and setting his mind ablaze with panic. Vex magic roared in his ears like a war cry, and Scar felt himself start to shift…

…when he saw Impulse standing there, exhausted and confused and too human to be able to hurt him. 

Impulse frowned, gesturing at his hair. “Uh… are you okay…?” he asked, and Scar looked up to see that his hair had just begun to turn white, though it was slowly fading back to the normal brown. 

Scar carded his fingers through his hair, trying to pull it away from his face and cover the still white strands. “Uh, yeah. Sorry, I… don’t? Know? Why that happened? I guess I just got really spooked.” Liar. And not even a good one at that.

Impulse didn’t believe him. Who would? Scar could deceive and manipulate and swindle, but he crumbled in the face of his friends. “...yeah. Uh. I just– nevermind. I’m…” He took a few steps back. “I’m gonna go.” 

Scar watched Impulse walk away, and was left with the lingering feeling that he messed something up big time. 

Which is why he found himself back at Cub’s house, later that day, as storm clouds gathered over the sky as an omen of rain. 

“I just don’t know what it means,” he complained to Cub over a cup of tea. “I felt some weird awful feeling? But it was just Impulse, and Impulse is like… he’s Impulse!”

Cub hummed softly in thought. “I wouldn’t exactly…” He stood, walking over to his desk and picking up a book. “Do you remember the last time you were here?” he asked, sitting back down and opening the book, flipping through the pages. “I asked you to summon Jellie.”

Scar frowned, nodding. “Yeah. And she hissed at Impulse. I’ve been thinking about that, actually, and I don’t really know what it means.” 

Cub continued flipping through the pages, not looking up. “Can you summon her again?” he asked absentmindedly, “I’d like to see something.”

Scar summoned Jellie, and she curled up in his lap, purring happily. He looked up at Cub, who was staring at Jellie with a contemplative gaze. “She’s perfectly fine now,” he explained, “it’s just…”

“Just around Impulse? Yeah, yeah, that’s what I’ve been seeing.” Cub stopped flipping through the pages of the book, fixing his glasses on his nose before running his finger down the text. “Has Impulse been acting odd recently?” he asked. “How about animals? Have they been reacting poorly to his presence? Nervous, wary…?”

Scar thought back through the past two weeks. “...now that you mention it, yeah. It… the horses, they were pretty spooked when we tried to ride, and obviously Jellie…” He closed his eyes for a moment. “Oh! I don’t think we mentioned this, but we kinda figured out why Impulse was feeling so restless? Or, at least, we think something’s the reason?”

Cub’s eyebrows furrowed. “Mmhm?”

“Grian saw Impulse out sleepwalking, and we’re pretty sure this has happened more than once,” Scar explained, gesturing vaguely with his hand as he spoke. “I don’t… think… anyone has mentioned it… to Impulse himself…? Which, now that I’m thinking about it, that’s kinda weird.”

Cub leaned forward. “I see, I see. Perhaps you felt an instinctual push to stay away? Something that told you that there was danger nearby?”

Scar nodded. “Yeah, exactly that!” He paused. “Wait, do you know what’s going on?” 

“Not quite.” Cub closed the book. “But I have an idea. I want you to keep an eye on Impulse for me, alright? Make sure he doesn’t do anything to hurt himself. And be careful, alright? I don’t want to see you get hurt again, man.” Not when the scars from last time have just barely healed. 

“Will do, mister!” Scar gave Cub a mock salute. “I promise I will not die!” He paused. “...or let anyone else die!”

Cub laughed softly. “Alright, alright. I trust you. Best get back to camp before the storm sets in.”

Scar mounted up and rode home with the promise of rain lingering on his mind.

–

Impulse was upset. 

And not the kind of upset that came from a slight mishap, or something inconsequential like a match not lighting the first time it was struck against the rough side of the matchbox. It was the kind of upset that began with one thing going wrong, which led to another, which led to another, and became an infinite loop of things not being right.

And he was almost certain of who was to blame, too.

“What are you doing,” he practically spat out through grit teeth and barely held back tears, “why is this happening? You didn’t– I wasn’t told about this. You lied.” 

Impulse, please. Control yourself. I told you that the magic folk don’t mix too well. As I’ve grown stronger, so has my presence. It’s only natural they’d be able to sense me, even if I hadn’t done anything. 

“But you did do something,” Impulse pressed, “that’s the thing. You let them know you were there! You–!” He shuddered at the mental image of Scar, hair streaked with white and eyes glowing ever so slightly blue. “You hurt my friends.”

I did nothing. You decided to stick around them. 

“I…” Impulse trailed off, not knowing how to respond. Glancing around the tent, something caught his eye– the book, left unread and opened, thrown into the corner of the tent and forgotten. “Well, you’re clearly not giving me the answers I need,” he began slowly, “so I guess I have to find them on my own.” He reached for the book. 

Ahhhh. I’m afraid this is where I must draw the line. 

And Impulse

couldn’t

move.

With a voice that swelled loud enough to need to be silenced, the demon spoke. Forgive me, but I am afraid that I can’t let you read that book. 

Impulse could do nothing but watch as his body moved on its own, puppeted by an outside force he had so stupidly allowed inside. He picked up the book and stood, stepping outside and looking around to make sure no one was nearby. With a gait that was not his own, Impulse began walking towards the area where the knights had their occasional campfire.

He couldn’t move. He was completely helpless. There was nothing he could do except watch and he was so scared, he was so scared and he should’ve asked Scar for help he should’ve reached out he–

Impulse– no, this wasn’t him, this was the demon– finally made it to the campfire, and found the box of matches the knights used to light their fires in a small chest. “Perfect,” the demon murmured in his voice, and pulled out a pile of the old newspapers placed in the chest for kindling. 

The first few drops of rain began to fall, and Impulse bitterly thought of how poetic that was. Almost like the sky was crying for him, as if it even cared for him at all. Maybe it was a feeble attempt from the universe at an apology, for forgetting about him all these years.

The demon struck the match, failing to light it on the first strike. It burst into flame on the second attempt, and was tossed into the kindling. The flames took to the paper splendidly, and were soon licking up the wood. Wood that had been used in the past for the campfires all the knights sat around to chat and laugh and be happy.

Impulse could only watch as the demon used him to toss the book into the flames, which burned defiantly against the rain that began to fall more heavily.

And with that, the last of his hope burned away with it.

[writing-the-end]

Chapter 34- Masked Marauders

Previous Chapter

Once again, this was all written during the first week or two of hermitcraft season 7, so none of these mega bases of the jungle hermits have been built, and unfortunately Ren hadn’t moved into the mesa yet. If he had, I’d definitely put him in since i know Ecto loves Ren! 

Speaking of Ecto, have a wee bit of Ecto angst. I feel the need to say, mostly to ease my own anxiety, that in no way to I believe any of this that I write- this is all part of the story and exclusively their minesona. Ecto is an amazing and awesome person that deserves love and good friends, and I hope none of this causes issues. But I also know we all love angst here. 

Ecto belongs to @cooler-cactus-block   (sorry the ‘at’ system won’t show up your current one)

Red belongs to @theguardiansofredland​

This isn’t the first time Ecto has gotten lost on her own. Suddenly losing sight of Scar and the others didn’t bother her. She just kept going in the direction that they were before, following the sun towards the northwest. Just like she would in her desert.

Her home. What was her home. Has the blizzard stopped? How deep is everything she ever loved, everything she ever lived for, buried? How much has survived? The desert had been Ecto’s home her whole life. It was a place for surviving, a land so different from anywhere else. Where no trees grew, where dunes replaced hills and sand replaced dirt. It was a unique place for a unique person. A person that didn’t fit in other places, that people always thought of as strange. 

Through the dense leaves, Ecto hears a noise. It sounds like a zombie, but higher pitched. A baby zombie? Those little things are fast, ankle biters with a vengeance from beyond the grave. Ecto pulls out her sword, sunlight reflecting off the enchanted iron blade in speckles that shafted through the dense canopy. The groaning is getting closer, but it’s not the only noise out there. 

She also hears a soft hush, and a chuckle being swallowed back down. She’s really started to hate this feeling, of being watched all the time. The next grumble of the high pitched zombie noise, Ecto takes off towards it. She’s done sitting and being spied on. “Face me you coward!” 

Ecto bursts through the greenery, wielding her sword to fight off the zombie. Instead, her entire body near escapes the pull of gravity when she’s the one surprised instead. A massive bird, with a yellow feathered face and red plumage jumps back at her. “Pesky bird!” 

Another, much smaller blue parrot echos the larger one, before returning to the zombie noises it’s been mimicking. Once Ecto has regained her sense of sanity, she realizes that she’s not looking at two birds. She’s looking at one bird and a human with a bird mask, blonde hair peeking out from behind the yellow and grey. While the two birds are giggling at their jumpscare, Ecto recognizes that voice. “Grian?” 

Grian pulls up his mask, wiping away the tears at his eyes. He’s embraced the Jungle Bandit lifestyle, using leaves, flowers, and feathers to make a more practical version of his hippie attire. He’s a part of the jungle, swinging from vines and foraging from the land. At least until he gets started on his first megabuild. “Ecto, is that you? What are you guys doin’ back so soon?” 

“I lost Scar.” Ecto pulls herself up from the ground, wincing as her wound stretches against the movement of her body. Blu got her good, but she’s not going to let any of her aches stop her. Scar’s bandages definitely are helping hold her together. What she wouldn’t give for some cactus to chew on though. 

“Ah, yeah this jungle is really confusing. A whole new world is confusing, period.” Grian sets his mask to the side. “So how did everything go once you guys got back to your world? Did you get to that stronghold you were looking for?” 

“Yeah, we got there. But everything went downhill from there.” Ecto groans, thinking off all the horrible things that have happened. This journey should have ended when they reached Avon’s stronghold. Instead, the worst part just began. “Most of us don’t have a home to go back to anymore. We’ve just been...walking.” 

“Wandering.” Grian hums, noting the forlorn note in Ecto’s voice. He doesn’t want to push her for more information. It sounds like it’s painful just to think about. A fresh wound, physically and emotionally. Grian isn’t very good with sad emotions, but there is something he is good at. Getting people to smile, to feel joy. And he remembers Ecto’s spunky attitude from Area 77. “Hey, do you want to help me prank some of the other hermits? I have some plans but I really need a second hand to help me out.” 

A mischievous glimmer sparks in Ecto’s eyes and soul. “You want me to help you get into trouble?” 

“I want to have fun. And there’s no harm in a little bit of trouble if it’s all good natured fun, right?” Grian picks up his mask, and even offers Ecto one as well. Green, like a cactus. 

And the jungle bandit had a partner in crime. Two pesky birds- and Professor Beak- flitted through the jungle, clambering over low trees and high vines. They return to the small pond that Grian and Scar share. Scar isn’t home, which is exactly what the two were hoping for. Larry already had his mustache, but with two cheeky minds put together he soon also grew a pair of arms to twist said stache. They flee as soon as the job is done, and the snail has gone through a sudden evolution to gain hands. 

Throughout the jungle, the two leave odd signs and statues. Roses growing from trees, markers pointing to nowhere, trees left completely bald. At one point, the two run across a strange structure in the woods. Stone and jungle wood ring the cultic center, where two fires burn at a steady, endless pace. “I have no clue what this is, and I’m afraid we may be snooping around something we shouldn’t be.” 

“You people sure like your cult initiations.” Ecto muses, before escaping the strange altar in the middle of the forest. 

With Scar already well pranked, Grian had to turn his attention to one of the many other inhabitants of the forest. The jungle bandit would strike everyone- even those he just learned are his neighbors. The pair manage to find their way to Stress’s base, devilish grins and cocky giggles reaching through the masks as they near. Professor Beak imitates them, laughing as well. 

“Oh, carrots. Don’t mind if I do.” Grian pulls up the crop, ready to be harvested. He chuckles to himself as he plants one back into the warm, moist soil. “Pesky bird. That’s why you always harvest your crop.” 

“Do husks appear in jungles as well?” Ecto questions through a mouthful of cocoa beans. She only ever had these a few times before, the sweet chocolate melting in her mouth. Grian looks over, surprised to see the tan colored zombie floating his way towards the two.

“No...he must’ve wandered into the jungle from the nearby mesa.” Grian starts to get an idea as he watches the hapless creature, so slow in the water.

Ecto perks up. Mesas mean one thing to her- cacti. “There’s a mesa nearby?” 

Ecto’s already wading through the shallow water, despite not knowing where exactly it is. “Whoa, hold up. Let’s put this lost guy to good use. Then we can check out the Mesa.” 

Grian and Ecto manage to wrangle in the lost husk. Ecto has had years of practice toying with the mindless mummies, and kiting this one was no different. Except instead of baiting it into a cactus trap, she brought it into a lead held by Grian. Together, the two drag the husk into the depths of Stress’s base. 

Grian has more of an idea what to do from there, and the husk as well as Ecto just observe him with open mouths and empty eyes. The husk can’t even think, but Ecto’s thinking about the mesa. It’s not a desert, but it’s close enough. She can’t wait to escape this humid, dense forest. She’s used to being hot, but not this sticky kind of hot. 

Grian steps back, hauling the husk into a hole and silencing him. And right above the husk, Ecto places down Stress’s magenta colored bed. “What is the point of this?” 

“You know how hard it is to sleep with monsters around.” Ecto frowns, but Grian just continues. She has no trouble sleeping with monsters, she’s used to them at this point. “It’s simple, but it’ll definitely frustrate Stress- I can practically hear her grumbling about it now.” 

“Can we go to the mesa?” Ecto isn’t really interested in pranking anymore. It was fun, and Grian is fun, but she wants to see the mesa. The closest thing to her home she’ll have seen since the blizzard. 

Grian catches on, realizing that this is more than just an impatient friend. Ecto tries to keep a face of indifference, but every time she turns away, he can see it. Sadness. Loss. A desire to go somewhere she can’t find. When she thinks he’s not looking, he can see her smile disappear, especially from her eyes. She’s mourning something. “Let’s go to the mesa. I think we’ve had our fun here.” 

The bandits flee the scene of their crime, Grian guiding Ecto eastward, to the mesa. But it’s not long until Ecto is stumbling past him. She can smell the arid land from here. It’s earthy and warm, with a crisp scent of sand and dust. It cuts through the rich scent of detritus the jungle traps in among the humidity, calling her. 

Ecto escapes the clutches of the vines and trees, busting out into the sandy mesa next door. She leaps from a tree branch, rolling across the sand as she lands. The grains stick to her clothes and skin, embracing her with their warmth from the unobstructed sun. Ecto digs her fingers into the orange sand, watching the broken rocks fall between her fingers as she holds them up. Sand has never been such a welcome sight. 

She remembers what can only grow from sand, and snaps her head up. Mesas don’t seem to grow cacti as fervently as deserts do, but she can see a few growing on a mound of sand in the distance. 

Grian isn’t sure he’s ever seen someone so happy to see a mesa biome, or even a cactus. He’s grown so tired of all the cactus his farm has been producing, he’s drowning in the spiny plant. Ecto returns to him, bouncing in her boots and holding one out. “It’s been so long since I’ve been able to have them. I forgot how sweet cactus juice is.” 

“You actually eat that stuff?” Grian questions, taking the piece that Ecto is offering him.

“It’s the easiest way to get water in the desert.” Ecto takes a look at the few cacti she was able to acquire. They’re in rough shape, with brown blemishes and weak spines. She’s not sure if they’d even be able to hold her weight at this point. She turns her gaze to the horizon, but she doesn’t see any more cacti. Either they haven’t grown, or they’ve already been taken by other hermits. 

Grian’s quick to notice what Ecto is looking at, looking for. “I have cactus at my hobbit hole. Actually, I have more cactus that I know what to do with. Do you want some of it?” 

The joyful smile all across Ecto’s face is all he needs to see. It warms him to see someone so happy over something so simple. To give joy to a friend, to another person is all Grian wants to do. He tells Ecto to wait, and go jogging back into the jungle. He’s faster at climbing through the jungle than her, and it’ll be a pleasant surprise when he returns with his bounty. At his home, Grian digs through every chest in his cactus farm, pulling the collected material before it can be put into compost. He’s stuffing the succulents into every pocket and pouch he can find in his new hobbit threads, even tossing aside his tools and supplies to make more room. At this point it’s as much about getting rid of all his overflowing cacti as it is making Ecto happy. 

Ecto hears Grian swearing before she sees him. Mostly because she was looking for his blond hair, but all of him was hidden behind an entire armful of cacti. So much cacti, Ecto isn’t sure if she’s seen that much at one moment. His clothes are stretching with the weight of the plant, and each one is precariously stacked on top of the others in his arms. Even Professor Beak is carrying his weight in cacti. “What do you even plan to do with all this? I mean, I’m not complaining. It freed up so much storage for me, but I’m curious.” 

“I’m going to jumpstack!” Ecto cheers, taking as many cacti as she can hold and starting her tower. She didn’t get to do this in the last hermit world, so this feels especially exciting. Building her monolith in a completely different world. Not just another dimension, another world. She’s careful to position her feet under her, in between the spines before hopping. While there is space between her and the cactus, she places another one. She lands perfectly so that the needles just barely scrape her shoes, feet light as a dancer’s. 

As Ecto stacks higher, Grian can only watch as she’s shadowed by the sun, dropping and blinding him until she’s reached beyond the sun’s rays. It’s not until Ecto has run out of cacti that he realizes she has no way to get down. She has no elytra, nothing. 

And yet, she jumps. Ecto has become a pro of surviving falls that would normally kill other humans. She doesn’t need fancy wings or magic.  She sees Grian scrambling across the sand below, but she tucks into a tight ball and rolls across the sand as she hits. It’s jarring, but it doesn’t kill her. Even though it’s still sunset, Ecto swears she can see stars. Apart from that, she’s still gaining control back when she hears Grian. “What was that?!” 

“I needed to get down.” Ecto hums, standing up with a sway and brushing the sand off her scarves. 

“What about using water? Or scaffolding? There are better ways, Ecto!” Grian grabs her by the shoulders, still shocked by such a ridiculous stunt. He hasn’t seen anyone so willing to defy death since Cub during Demise. And even he eventually lost that battle.

“Water is hard to find in the desert. And why build more than necessary? Look, I’m fine, and this is the most direct way.” Ecto’s face pinches up at the suggestion. She shrugs Grian’s grip off of her shoulders, turning around and looking back up at her art. One monolith stands tall above the jungle trees, spines scraping at the untouched sky. Her build may be the tallest yet. 

Grian can only chuckle, shaking his head and shaking away the nerves. “You’re quite the weird person, Ecto.” 

Weird. Ecto knows that she’s different. She thinks different, acts different from the normal. She’s decided that she won’t change. . It’s a flaw she can’t erase. And people abandon her for that. Disregard her, turn on her. But what about Grian? He is strange like me, but his friends still stick around. Why do they all leave me? Why does he stay around even now?