wolfsong

[Deleted]

Characters: Moonwing + @sv19
Location: Northern Britain
Content Warnings: N/A
Plot Summary: Freshly deserted and with no idea of what to do next, the young Moonwing encounters a fellow Cybertronian

[Deleted]

((OOC: @krom, I have finally gotten around to posting for you :'D I am so sorry it took so long!))

The cold wind whipped beneath her wings, buffeting her roughly as she fought against the air currents of the stratosphere, but she knew she could not turn back now. It was far too late to change her mind now, for even if she did, there was no returning from whence she came - what lay behind her now was more terrible than anything that could possibly be ahead. One did not simply leave the Decepticon Cause; Lord Megatron made that perfectly clear. To put it mildly, forsaking the Decepticons was not something one could reasonably do, and poor Moonwing was rightfully petrified... and yet, she had known in her spark that she could no longer stay upon the Nemesis when her sole purpose was to be trained to murder others.

‘I don’t want to hurt anyone,’ She thought fervently to herself, ‘I never want to hurt anyone!’

Once her decision had been made, she’d spent many anxious days planning and thinking. Where could she go? What would she do? There was no place on this planet that she could think of where an ex-Decepticon could take shelter and not be found - she would have to be constantly on the move, never staying in one place for long. The prospect of never having security was not appealing, but the knowledge that her spark could no longer bear attempting to force herself to be something she was not.

Moonwing discovered just how easy it was to leave The Nemesis that night. She’d been terrified that someone would somehow know, would deduce what she was planning to do simply by looking at her, but no one came upon her as she hurriedly gathered her meagre supplies and left a rushed note to Dreadwing, whom she regretted disappointing above all else. It had been a simple thing then to leave from the flight deck, for no one thought twice at seeing a seeker take flight.

She flew and flew and flew, as far and as fast as she could, determined to put as much distance between herself and the Nemesis so that she would have a chance to get away before someone discovered what she had done. Where she would go, however, was a bigger mystery - where could she run, where could she hide, where Lord Megatron could not find her?

Eventually, she landed upon a rocky cliff overlooking the sea somewhere in Northern Britain to rest. Her mind dimly flittered through her options, desperately trying to figure out what to do next, before a memory rose to the forefront of her processor. Upon landing, she then promptly burst into tears, suddenly feeling the heavy weight of what she’d done upon her shoulders.

[Deleted]

---

Alright brother. My HUD told me another vehicon from my unit came online. Sev thought to himself. He’d been scouring the surface for possible locations a stasis pod might have crashed. So far he had little luck. Energon signature after energon signature hadn’t yielded the desired result. It was the thought that another one of his comrades was somehow alive that fueled his perseverance. Investing all his free hours into finding this brother of his was more worthwhile than mining energon. Sev could at last have someone he could talk to, relate to.

Having to play the part of the emotionless, mindless and unquestionable soldier was a tiring task to do alone. Especially when he was discovering how much needed to be brought into question about Decepticon ideals. It had all started with that human asking questions, and promoting the Autobots. She’d asked questions, bringing to light things Sev hadn’t thought to question himself. She’d also promoted the Autobots. Of course she did. She’s obviously been a bit brainwashed. Sev thought. Yeah right. A small voice in the back of his helm seemed to say. The vehicon trooper sighed as he continued to navigate through the wilderness.

Fifteen minutes later the vehicon knew he needed rest. One glance at the sky told him that evening was coming. So were the stars. They would again show themselves, dappling the sky in their gorgeously countless amount. He’d grown to love the wondrous night skies, they were a treat Cybertron’s war had withheld. On his homeplanet, the stars were choked out by smoke and the light pollution all the seekers of war caused. They dampened the heavenly depthless beauty of the night. Sev inhaled, as the sounds of waves crashing filled his helm with thoughts of sitting down to watch the display come again.

The decepticon bunkers and his vehicon barracks starved him of these views. Seekers were so lucky to be able to simply fly up and greet the numerous lights above. Sev began heading through the sharp mountainous terrain to the cliffsides, knowing in his spark where the ideal spot to watch one of the few joys he had. As he found his way over a mountain, and through scattered trees, he spotted something he saw a small figure swoop low and land right on the edge of a cliff. Wise. They know what to do as well. Sev thought to himself. He was tired enough he took a second to wonder if it was an autobot, and if he should shoot. Then the femme cried. Sev frowned all of the sudden.

Crying? It has to be an Autobot. He thought. He began approaching at a quicker, quieter pace, lifting his sniper rifle to peer through the scope. No…it’s that femme. The image of a shaking doubtful little seekeress flashed in his mind as though he’d seen her yesterday. He recalled her and how she was addressed, which meant she likely wasn’t too high in Decepticon ranks.

Sev decided he’d check the situation out. Thus the vehicon began approaching her, his gun remaining in his servos. Just in case she wasn’t who he thought she was. He was only seeing her from the back, after all.

[Deleted]

To poor Moonwing’s confusion, instead of the relief she’d expected to feel (For what else was she supposed to feel after escaping service to an oppressive, murderous cause?) all she felt was fear and anxiety. She had known when plotting her ‘escape’ that what she had been about to do was irreversible, but she had not realized how dreadfully final it was until it was done and over with. Since she had crash landed upon this world, The Nemesis - and her assigned little room - had meant safety, security, and stability, and to now leave that behind was incredibly frightening. What was she to do now?

The coolant tears welled up in her optics, until she found herself sobbing brokenly, her wings drooped low in misery. What was she going to do now? Where could she go to escape the Decepticons who would surely be dispatched to drag her back to face punishment for her treason? How would she get enough energon to survive? Moonwing didn’t know. So focused had she been on getting out, she’d not thought on what to do when she was free.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps behind her startled her from her thoughs, and the young seeker spun around quickly to see who it might be. There before her was a vehicon soldier she did not recognise, with a gun in his servos that was clearly loaded and aimed towards her. Terror pulsed through her EM field - was this someone sent to drag her back?

“I won’t go b-back!” She babbled in a shaking voice, her fright written clearly on her face - and yet, somehow, she mustered up the courage to assert her resolve. “I won’t, and you can’t make me!”

[Deleted]

The vehicon was just putting away his rifle as the femme spun around, alarm written in bold print like a newspaper’s heading. His recollection of her dimensions from the back fluidly matched up with the ones he was seeing form the front. Yes, this was that quivering doubtful femme alright, no doubt about it. Her silver plating was unmistakable, and the kind of expression she wore matched the kind of voice she had. Wide, large optics stared at him with a depthless red, their glow spelled horror to him. Yet as his own scarlet visor met her eyes, it found another emotion behind the fear she’d harvested: guilt.

It was in her eyes and it was in her voice. ‘I won’t go b-back! I won’t, and you can’t make me!’

You’ve definitely made your mind up about something. Sev thought. Slowly,. He put his rifle on his backplating. He kept a respectful distance from the femme, as he puzzled over her statements for a few seconds. For a moment, he was quiet, as his mind hypothesized, pruned his speculations, and trimmed back the products of his imagination. He knew that kind of expression though. He knew this femme wasn’t up to anything she was proud of, that was for sure.

“Ah,” Sev broke the quietness, after a small stroking of his chin, “I know why you’re out here ma’am.” He shifted from on pede to the other, his calm voice echoing slightly across the cliff, “You have rookie painted all over your faceplate. Your armor is shiny, and doesn’t appear chipped in any area. You must have run off from your boot camp.” Sev concluded, “Likely for the first time, ma’am.” He added. Folding his arms, he shook his helm,

There was no way this femme had much experience. Unless this was an act, she looked about as innocent and as green as a…well…a newbie. Technically she outranked him. But it felt good to see someone with less experience than he. That so rarely happened. He was positioned docile enough, and looked as peaceful as a black ops vehicon could if he was standing. Patiently, he awaited the seekeresses reply.

[Deleted]

The vehicon may have stowed away his rifle, but it was obvious that Moonwing was still made incredibly skittish by his presence. She desperately searched his mask, trying to read any clue as to his intentions, but, as might have been expected, the generic faceplate that every vehicon shared did not reveal much to her.

Upon the rather precise summation of her circumstances, her wings twitched backward even further in anxiety - and perhaps a little bit in awe at the fact that he’d inferred so much so easily just by looking at her. The fact that he used a formal title for her further threw her for a loop. Even as a soldier in training, she had still outranked the faceless masses of vehicon drones upon The Nemesis… but surely now she had clearly deserted The Cause she no longer held any rank at all.

The thought of him deferring to her in respect when she obviously deserved none bothered her.

“I’m not- I’m not ‘ma’am’ anymore,” Moonwing murmured, fidgeting nervously, still wisely keeping her distance should he try to leap at her and grab her. “You don’t have to call me that. I’m just- I’m Moonwing,” And then, as if she were concerned that he had not yet understood her declaration before, she repeated, “And I’m not going back.”

[Deleted]

Sev had been nefarious in his camp for reading people. Their gestures, and how tense they were stationed was everything. Voice contributed to his calculations, and the fact that Moonwing was someone with a faceplate to begin with made it somewhat easier for Sev to see what was going on. How certain he’d been of his equation.

There was no way that femme had too much experience, and she was not going back from wherever right? She left bootcamp. Her motvie was obviously that it was a heck of a place to be, indicated by her quivering and shaky words. It had to be a boot camp, because she obviously needed some experience under her belt. Sev noticed her trying to look at him in a way not many always did. Was she trying to read him? His mask was unreadable. Better luck with my positioning. Sev mentally coached. Megatron’s pistons, this femme is- His thoughts were cut off by Moonwings words. Sev furrowed one brow and arched the other behind his mask.

“Designation accepted.” Sev shrugged awkwardly, taking his turn to be caught off guard. She was acting weird. She still hadn’t said what she was going back to, and she was acting scared of him. Sev noticed the distance between the young femme and the cliff. A few steps backward and she’d be falling off, or rather flying off. Sev scratched his helm, his mind puzzling over this femme, doubts beginning to swirl in his mind of his hypothesis.
“Ma—“ Sev sighed, “Moonwing, I don’t understand.” Sev folded his arms, “You wouldn’t mean not returning to the Decepticons would you?” Sev asked the question as if her answer was clearly ‘no’, although the doubt at his words could be heard faintly. “Correct?” Sev asked.

His mind swirled with doubts all the sudden. This Moonwing couldn’t have. Then again he didn’t know her. Some small part of him began to believe that her leaving made a small amount of sense. There was no way she would have. Logically it was idiotic to leave the Decepticons right? Somehow it was. He couldn’t recall how but it was.

[Deleted]

The cowardly part of her wanted to jump at this opportunity given to her - if she made something up now, if she found some sort of excuse as to why she would be away from the Nemesis now without permission, perhaps she could go home and return to the relative safety and security and stability-

’No,’ Moonwing told herself sternly, ’No, that was not home. I don’t belong there and I never did.’ Maybe if she told herself as much often enough, perhaps that cowardly part of her would believe it.

The vehicon asked her a question, and her spark gave a bit of a start at his next words. Surely she’d made herself clear (and incriminated herself past the point of no return) in what she’d done? She blinked, momentarily thrown off. “I- yes?” She squeaked, trying to wrap her young mind around the double negatives, puzzling over it for several long and awkward moments before she gave herself a little shake. “I mean- I’m. I’m not returning. To the Decepticons.”

Somehow, saying the words out loud both helped her steady her resolve as well as frightened her even further. The vehicon seemed confused as to why anyone would ever do such a thing, and to some extent, Moonwing could understand; when the Cause was everything, it seemed like madness to walk away… but she meant what she had said. She would not go back.

“... What’s your name?” She asked, her wings giving a nervous twitch. It was rude of her not to ask his, after all, when he’d asked her’s.

[Deleted]

Initiating Killing Protocols

His visor began flickering.

Upon realizing the femme could have lied, Sev felt his systems groan. So much for his detective skills. This femme was being a flat out heretic! She was leaving the Decepticons. She’d decided to tell him, regardless of the fact that she likely knew it would be his duty to shoot her now. His programming rumbled in his processor, already causing his mind to be agitated with her, and endeavoring to trigger his aggressive natures. She was no longer Decepticon, so she had to die. There was no question to it. Moonwing couldn’t be allowed to live any longer, abandoning Lord Megatrons magnificent campaign was not only spitting in the face of the righteous mech, but it was sacrilege in regards to taking oaths to follow Megatron to the end of her days. (Sev assumed everyone took an oath, due to the dictations of his programming)

Killing Protocols momentarily postponed.

Her question for his name helped him regain some of his grip on his sense of reason. She was committing a crime, but maybe she was making miscalculations. From what he could tell that wasn’t likely, but he’d been wrong just a few seconds ago. He couldn’t just kill her like that either. Maybe, somehow, there was more to the story. No one did anything without a reason for it. Moonwing could’ve lied Sev reminded himself again, as he internally got a more solid grasp on his cool. His visor ceased it’s flickering, as he came to a decision, and a more clear computing process was chosen.

“My name is irrelevant.” Sev answered with slight strain in his voice, the vehicon still collected himself after the slight mental skirmish. He wasn’t going to tell her his name. Just in case he had to kill her, or she successfully escaped. No one needed to know the name of a vehicon entering the areas shaded grey. His EM field buzzed, his instincts still slightly in shock as to what to really do. Sev was beginning to wish he hadn’t been given Moonwing’s name, or that he’d given her small amounts of sympathy in the first place. This femme seemed nice enough…but Sev knew his job as a vehicon, and he knew what he was supposed to do with runaways. Moonwing likely knew of the punishments. Even if she didn’t Sev believed he’d be doing her a favor if he didn’t kill her right now, before Megatron or the DJD got to her. Just hesitating about doing his job meant that his life was one the line as well.

“Look.” Sev sighed, as he made a final decision in his helm, he drew a blade, his visor looked Moonwing dead in the optics, “I don’t like saying this anymore than you’re going to like hearing it. But if you’re certain you’re not going back, then I need to know good reasons not to kill you right now.” Sev said grimly.

[Deleted]

She had known all along that her desertion could come with a hefty price should she ever be captured and returned to the Nemesis, and she had accepted that risk when she’d stepped off the flight desk into stormy oblivion. Moonwing had not, however, expected to come face to face with with one who could deal out such a punishment, or drag her back to face her fate. It was clear she hadn’t any sort of escape plan, and in her anxious, frightened state, she hadn’t thought to simply fly away. And yet, she knew in her spark, just as she knew that the sun would rise and the wind would carry her, that she would rather die than return.

A grim outlook for such a young spark indeed, but Moonwing had been born to be a killer; she would rather die knowing her destiny was in her own hands than be forced to do the terrible things that would have been required of her had she stayed.

The Vehicon’s visor began to flicker in an incredibly disconcerting manner. Her wings, already back and low in her alarm, twitched back even more in confusion and fear. It appeared as if he were struggling with something, though she had little clue what. “I won’t go back,” she repeated once more, and to her surprise she found her voice was firm, steady, and unyielding.

That hint of a backstrut evaporated when the blade was drawn, and the young seeker let out a warble of horror. The edge of it glinted in the moonlight. “I- no!” Moonwing’s hands came up defensively and she took a frightened step backwards, inching dangerously close to the edge of the cliff.

And then, beneath her heels the cliff crumbled away, and Moonwing suddenly plummeted straight downward. Her claws scrabbled at the cliffside, desperate to grab hold, but before she could dig in (or think to turn on her thrusters) she hit the rocks below with a sickening crunch and a wail of agony, her left leg twisted under her body.

[Deleted]

Resuming Killing Protocols

Moonwing fell off the cliff, causing Sev to jolt in surprise. His spark thudded in his chest, before he heard a loud crashing, followed by screech of agony. Sev’s visor peered down the rocky Cliffside at the downed seekeress. She wasn’t going to be going anywhere too soon. Her wings were likely damaged as well, even if they were still functional, her leg was going to prevent her from getting far. Sev let the panels in his back hum to life, hissing outwards as fires from his exhast whispered. His jet pack ready for activation, he gave a leap off the cliffside without skipping a beat. As he fell down, shooting past the rock formations leading to Moonwings crash landing. His visor lights trailed behind him in a blur, but his jet-pack thrusters erupted, releasing a ring of smoke from his back. The momentum of his fall was neutralized, the vehicon deactivated his thrusters, letting them tuck back into the panels of his armor, shifting and filling their hollowed homes.

The vehicon stared down at the wounded young femme, the claymore still in hand. His silver armor greeted Moonwing in a merciless glimmer. After taking one step forward, Sev slammed a foot to firmly pin Moonwing to the down, once more, he pointed his blade at her. This time the wickedly sharp tip was angled for her neck.

Unlike Moonwing, he was a creature of war, and was used to concepts of war. He was molded by the war, born into it, created because of it, a machine of destruction suited for ending lives. The femme’s unfortunate fall made his job easier. The femme’s firm demeanor was shattered as quickly as it had come. Sev calculated he would be able to shatter it more if he tortured her on the spot. But he wasn’t that kind of mech. If she was going to die…no, when she was going to die it was going to be quick. Precise and clean. That was arguably more than she deserved a part of him thought bitterly.

“I said it once. I’ll say it again.” Sev’s voice was like breaking ice, “I need a good reason not to kill you. This is your last chance.” He was carful not to call her by name. It was only going to make things harder. Still. At least he didn’t know her much. He was still slightly angry at her for leaving Megatron. Thoughts of breaking more of her appendages were flying through his mind, as his fuel pump hammered in his chest.

[Deleted]

For several moments after the impact, Moonwing crumpled lay in a dazed, pained stupor stupor. Judging by the way her leg was now unnaturally bent beneath her, the main structural strut had been snapped. With horror rising into her throat, she realized that, now that she was so grievously injured, she had no means to escape. She should have run when she’d had the chance, taking to the skies and never looking back, but her innate tendency to trust others had once again gotten her into serious trouble.

The Vehicon followed her down with some sort of jetpack (and since when did vehicons - or, the Grounders, at least - have jetpacks?), his mask as unreadable as it had been before, and she imagined the red glow of his visor had to be out of malevolence. His foot slammed down upon the cneter of her chest, and she uttered a small yelp as the glass of her cockpit creaked and crackled under the sudden strain.

The very tip of his blade rested against her throat, right above a major energon artery. If sliced, there would be no doubt that she would bleed out, a slow and terrifying death. “Please don’t,” she whimpered, her voice barely audible, but even then she realized the futility of begging for her life when it was clear he intended to snuff it out then and there.

She realized that it was all swell and dandy to believe that one might die for one’s values, but it didn’t mean one wouldn’t be terrified when faced with termination. She didn’t want to die.

Her processor whirled panic as she fought hard to control her ventilations and find any words which might satisfy his request. A good reason? Moonwing panicked, for surely no answer would ever be enough… bu she didn’t want to die, and if this meant staving it off a little while longer, she’d jump on the chance. Finally, she gasped out, “Because… because I’m a person, just like you. Because I believe that people can choose to do things, or not to do things, and not be forced to do them. I don’t want to be what they wanted me to be. I want to choose what I’m going to be, and who I am, and what I do- and you can, too. Everyone can, if they have the courage.”

[Deleted]

Sev looked down at the the fallen Moonwing. The moonlight was now reflecting off her polished silver armor. She’d looked at him like a bird shot down does, moments before its death. While she wouldn’t die from her wound, the confusion, panic, and desperateness were written all over her young faceplate.

Sev remembered several Autobots giving him that look before he’d sent them away to the Allspark. Some closed their eyes, hugging themselves tightly, some cried, and some even screamed. Death was the end, and though so many joked about it, speculated about it, when they felt it was close at hand, no smiles decorated their faceplates. They’d all just looked at him in anguish, trying to find emotion or something humane in his visor, as if a last second eye-contact would make the difference.

Sev believed half the reason he was told to keep his helmet on was not to grace the enemy with a person to look at. He felt it was also a mercy for the killer, since knowing the target was unaware of his own expression made things…easier.

He waited for the answer, pretending to ignore Moonwing’s mouse-voiced plea. It was his job, in his programming, but killing was never something Sev enjoyed. But someone had to do the dirty work. Sev flinched at Moonwings next words, again, his visor flickered, only a small amount this time. He tightened his grip on the claymore, pressing the tip against her neck with but a tiny degree of extra force.

More memories flashed through his mind, as he recalled his purpose, the mentally drilled into him, and the duty he’d been called to do then, and now.

“It’s not as simple as that.” He said sharply, feeling anger building up in his chest for some reason. This philosophy was blasphemous to Lord Megatron. Rage boiled in his chest, as he realized that he wasn’t angry because of how it clashed with his life long method of teaching, or how it was blasphemous to Lord Megatron, or even that it contradicted the foundation of his way of thinking. No, he was infuriated one of the few times in his existence because he wasn’t disagreeing with her reason. He wasn’t even leaving a mark in her armor.

He had the spark of a weakling.

Sev withdrew the blade. He knew he wasn’t going to use it. He couldn’t find it in him to. He’d slaughtered Autobots, but they’d mostly been drone like him. Not to mention he hadn’t given any of them much of a chance to sputter out a reason for him not end them. She was a deserter, and she had something that was too alive and too much of something else in her. So he was sparing her. It was also the fact that to him, it seemed unfair that she was able to come up with that philosophy. Of course she could say that. She was %100 sentient, and she had no gun to her head. In a sense, she was more free to make decisions and be able to think than he was. He couldn’t help but feel envy for her boldness, and her ability to simply run off. Potentially, she could have run on and no one could have caught her. She’d just been unlucky that he’d encountered her. But when she left, no one had been watching. No alarms had gone off, nobody had rushed to the controls of the Nemesis, typed in a code into the computer, activating a kill switch that would tie her off as a loose end. Instead she could roam free, theoretically. If he let her go…which was what he’d likely do…she’d be free to make more decisions on her own. Something about that made him feel like that was the purpose of programming; to limit choices.

“It’s never as simple as that.” He repeated, shaking his helm. He got off her, stepping back some, unsure what to do. The vehicon sighed. “This was not an act of courage on my part. I am just weak.” He shook his helm, feeling the shame of his failure. If he couldn’t do his duty this once, that meant he would fail again. He knew he couldn’t always succeed, but he’d failed right here, right now…when it was crucial he didn’t. He grimaced at himself, as he kept away from Moonwing, knowing he wouldn’t kill her.

[Deleted]

’I’m going to die,’ she thought to herself. Some bots might have found peace within their final moments, and accepted their inevitable fate, but all she could think of was the claymore at her throat and how terribly frightened she was in that very moment. She did not want to die. She knew this to be an irrefutable fact, and her will to live was evidenced by her fearfully fluttering spark and EM field tinged in terror.

She could feel his rage at her words, and knew then she hadn’t said the right ones. The tip of the claymore pressed harder against thin, sensitive plating, and her breath hitched in fear with his every move- And just as she cowered, he flinched at her every word. If she were cleverer and more experienced than, perhaps she would have thought to exploit this weakness, but Moonwing was young, and it was not in her nature to exploit others. His words, sharp and as cold as ice, made her whimper.

For all her fear of him, she could not bring herself to tear her gaze away from his visor. She watched him, wide-opticked, never looking away from where she supposed his optics were hidden beneath the mask. Other bots might have done the same with the intent of staring their killer down, but the young seeker’s motives were were simpler; she worried that if she looked away, the blade would fulfill its duty.

But then - the blade retracted away from her throat, and all Moonwing could do was gasp and shake as the realization sank in: he was not going to kill her. Relief flooded her EM field. Certainly her leg was still twisted beneath the rest of her, and she wouldn’t be getting off this rocky outcrop any time soon on her own, but the knowledge that she wasn’t going to die was sweet indeed even in the face of her pain and vulnerability.

The Vehicon stepped away from her, and Moonwing got the impression that he wasn’t entirely sure what to do. She could empathize - for what came next? “Y-you… You aren’t weak!” The young seeker told him. Her voice shook in uncertainty, as if she wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t leap at her again and finish her off, but even now she was beginning to relax. His actions - or lack thereof - had proven just how strong he was. “You chose to be someone different, and do something different than what you were meant to!”

Moonwing bit her lip, unsure of what to do or say next. There was no protocol for this, no memorized bit of information she could rely upon. It unnerved her, not knowing what to do, but she supposed this was the gift of choice. Finally, tentatively, she said, “... You didn’t tell me your name. You… You do have one, don’t you?”

[Deleted]

Alas, nothing was more humiliating than knowing he could've killed her, done his duty and perhaps even been promoted or noticed for such an easy kill. Even more, killing should have been something easy. Curse her sentience! It would have been easier if she was a drone of some kind. Maybe if she was wearing a mask he wouldn't have had to look at her terrified face that, despite how much he hated to admit it, touched his heart. 

So much for his whole gig about being a killing machine. Mooning declared him not a coward, and applied her philosophy to his actions, Sev scowled at her. He'd just defied his programming, which was beginning to give him a slight migraine for not obeying. Talk about rubbing salt in a sore wound. He'd just spared her, and now she was going to tell him she was right all along? Sev's visor dimmed as he sucked in the air deeply, raising his hands lightly over his chest while his helm raised to the sky, before exhaling. His visor met her eyes as he collected himself. Trying hard to think with a cool helm. 

She wasn't trying to be bossy. 

"I'm not going to have that talk." Sev stated, the soft calmness was entering his voice again, but his words were firm. He was normally open to new philosophy, but tonight left a lot to process, considering what he'd done. Curse his conscience. It must be one of the many consequences of having intelligence. Sev decided to himself. He sighed in defeat, knowing he wasn't about to leave the weather to kill her either. Sev approached the femme, almost pretending to start over with the femme. He knelt down for a minute, getting a closer look at her wound. 

"My name was irrelevant approximately less than a five minutes ago, and it is still irrelevant." Sev answered, the coldness in his voice only lingered slightly. He wouldn't admit it, but it was almost entirely gone. That didn't mean he wasn't a little angry with her still. "As for your leg," He paused, "Unfortunately, the only medical procedure I am familiar with is dissection." He commented dryly, "That isn't going to help you though." He said, stroking his chin on what to do. I never thought I'd be doing something like this. He thought, almost mentally groaning, though somehow, the voice in the back of his mind told him he was doing something good. He might as well finish what he started. He strained to try to resist his programming. He'd have to think fast, so it didn't wear out his will before then. 

"Our options are limited." Sev thought aloud, mentally going through what he could do. Ground bridging wasn't an option. The Decepticons would see the signatures in the area the ground bridge was to be placed, and even if they didn't know the story, they would know soon. Dragging her to the top of the cliff would be a risk as well. She looked fairly light weight, but his jet pack was meant for enhancing leaps and softening falls, not so much flying. What to do....