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Cyclonus didn’t really purr. He found it to be an unnecessary show of expression to start with, and to follow he didn’t really have much reason to do it. His home was gone, destroyed by millennia of war that he hadn’t even been apart of. There was a time he could recall in some distant corners of his memory when it was easy to make his engine rumble with its smooth, even purr. But that was when he was young and Cybertron still at its peak.
He simply couldn’t do it, mourning as he was. For a planet lost. For the life he’d lost to the Dead Universe. For the lives he’d taken. It was just out of the question, even as he heard the other bots aboard the Lost Light rumbling in their purrs left broken from hundreds of thousands years of fighting and repair upon repair. Nothing inclined him to join in; he wasn’t sure how the others would react, anyway. Not that he would care.
Though, some distant part of him wondered if his purr even sounded the same, after all this time and all he’d been through. He didn’t dwell on it.
But after the jaunt through time that allowed him to see his homeland once again in its shining glory, he found himself content among the others on the Lost Light as they watched an Earth film. He let his guard down for the briefest of moments, and found himself purring. Softly, at a volume the others were sure not to notice in the cacophony of noise around them, but it was there. Slightly broken and off kilter, as he’d expected, but filled with a contentment that surprised him.
He supposed he liked it.