In the Dark of the Night

Onyx lifted his head. Great Dane's weren't ever seen in Nome but the male wasn't freaked by the presence of the large dog. He sniffed, closing his mouth and lifting his body. "Too hot," he said, "Where I come from it's never hot."

He scratched behind his bandanna furiously before shaking his coat and returning his chocolate gaze to the other male. "Ain't it too hot for you?"

Engines on both pitiful wings buzzed incessantly as the scraggly mech kept his body aloft within the blackness of the chambers.  Wide, round crimson eyes shined out against the rest of him.  He was flying rather slow, but he needed to go fast enough to keep his weight from dragging him down.  It had been too long since he'd had contact with any living being.  Paranoia was creeping on him and he turned his head around his shoulder every five seconds.  The stone tunnels were like a labyrinth but soon his scanners were able to pick up on heat masses.  Somehow, Skywarp Jr. was hopeful there would be other Decepticons, but he hadn't seen a single trace of his race since arriving.  He picked up his speed a little bit.

008493, once he was visually aware of two...flesh-things, pulled up before shutting his thrusters off.  He landed with a metallic clatter, although he wasn't too loud, being reasonably lightweight.  His robotic spine murmured a little bit as he leaned up, his red optics scanning across the chamber.  Annoyance more than disappointment folded his shiny face as all he saw were fuzzy creatures.  Skywarp Jr. had never been off of Cybertron ever in his brief existenceso he had not seen organic life before.  But he wasn't the intellectual type who'd be fascinated.  No.  He didn't much like things that were different.

But if it were not for that company, the purple Seeker jet would probably have a break down.  The fact that he had been freaked out was still visible in his optics.

"Peh.  What a pathetic lot," 008493 grumbled, no doubt repeating something he overheard one of the elder Decepticons saying.

Cautiously, a curly mop of blonde hair poked out behind a corner. There was barely any time for anyone to register the presence before it disappeared. Cillian sat there, rubbing the soft furry toy dog he had found. These people, these creatures scared him. Everything about this situation scared him.

Swallowing, he slowly stepped out and flinched, expecting some kind of reaction. When none came, he realized they hadn't noticed him yet. Relieved, he hurried over to a corner and sat, gripping the stuffed animal tightly to his chest. He looked like a joke, an almost fully grown teen clutching a child's toy as if his life depended on it.

Lazy yellow eyes watched as a number of others made an appearance. First off, a strange metal creature, somewhat shaped like a man, had come flying down the tunnel before landing. He ignored the creature's grumbling, not even bothering to look straight at it.

The smaller creature, however, was a different story. he couldn't tell if it was a cat or some kind of rodent. He raised his head slightly when she spoke, taking a closer look before crossing his paws and lowering his head again.

"Not much fun to be had, here," he said, shrugging a bit. His eyes tracked a sudden flash of movement, but that was his only reaction to the appearance of the blond-headed human who snuck by, and sat in a corner. Nothing interesting there.

He glanced up as another dog made an appearance. A female this time. His initial response to her sneering remark was to lift a back paw from beneath the rubble covering it, and scratch at an ear as he idly looked her over. She certainly talked tough. But could she take as much as she could give?

"Go on, then. The Collar Clan seems more your speed, anyways," he said dismissively.

008493 paced in circles as he listened.  He didn't really look up, more watching his feet drag over the ground.  He got fidgety if he didn't have activity in a while.  A vacant frown was on the little 'cons face.  Why couldn't he go home?  Crimson eyes took a glance once he pretty much heard his own utterance repeated.  His expression fell once he spotted the voice's owner.  The brat wasn't without his own demeaning statements;

"Oh good.  I was beginning to think we didn't have enough little squishy animals to go around," 008493 growled, true to his upbringing to dislike organics.

He brought one of his unarmored hands to the other and cracked his knuckle joints.  008493 then placed his hands over his hips, flicking his head from side-to-side to get a better look around.  It wasn't long before the robot's gaze was brought right to the human boy cowering in the corner.

"Heeello?" He cooed, with a grin that could only mean trouble.

The smile remained over his grey face as he saw a stray brick sitting close to his feet.  Nothing but devious plans flooded the Decepticon's head as he bent and plucked the rock.  008493 showed off for a second, tossing the brick as if it were nothing into the air and catching it with the other hand.  Then he began to inch toward Cillian (although looking rather cautious), holding the blunt object in a rather unfriendly manner.  Surely, he'd get some sort of reaction.

"So wanna see 'mean', huuuh?"

"Those losers? Not a chance." Brenna scoffed derisively at the mention of the collar clan. Quite aside from being too proud a stray to ever associate with a group with 'collar' in the name, she knew their leader from back home - and didn't like him one bit. His sister, who she would bet was here somewhere too, even less.

She didn't bother to turn her attention to whatever was going on between the metal man and the human boy; neither of those held any interest to her, frankly. Humans and their inventions... so long as they left her alone, she couldn't care less about either of them. It was her fellow animals that interested her more, at the moment.

She rolled her eyes very noticably as the thick-furred dog spoke. What an idiot, prefering his fancy-looking fur to practicallity. Brenna herself had been blessed with a relatively thin coat; but if she hadn't, she wouldn't have hesitated to sacrifice it if the climate called for it. "I'm talking to a guy who thinks he's a big-shot but probably isn't," she countered; gauging him for a reaction as much as anything else. If he took it like a dog, she'd give him the time of day and maybe even treat him civilly; if he decided to bitch and whine and try to defend himself, she would be merciless.

"And it's Brenna," she replied to his question almost as if it were an afterthought.