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Distant fires from ruins and watchtowers alike glowed in the darkness, as the new Autobot Third-in-Command solemnly sat and stared without really seeing. Even the electrotoads had stopped chirping now, a sign of how late, how lonely, it was. He couldn’t bring himself to care.
The wind rustled behind him.
“I didn’t know.” He croaked. “I wasn’t prepared for this…”
“None of us ever are.” Prowl replied curtly, saying no more. The Praxian offered no sympathetic sigh or pitying pat. Instead, Prowl sat down, and the silence of the night returned.
But, Jazz noted, it was not as dark anymore.