Wandering Sparks

Chapter 1

Look, Rodimus, do you see the Dioptase-Doe with her fawn? Optimus cooed as he lifted his son in his arms to allow him to look out of the wagons window. The tiny Sparkling chirped and clicked happily, pointing at the nearby-but-not-too-nearby shapes of the two wild animals drinking their fill in the small oil stream running by the caravans campsite.

It amazed the adult mech how bold the two mechanimals were; normally, wild ones fled the presence of mechs and civilization altogether, and with a reason he supposed. It was well-known the barbaric nomad tribes prowling the Wastelands preyed on the mechanimals for their hides and -- it was whispered with a shudder -- for their energon, which they sucked out like vampires from those bad, pseudo-gothic tales the young mech had browsed through when he had been bored. Optimus couldnt help but grimace at the mere idea. It sounded awful.

Thankfully, they themselves were civilized mechs. They drank oil and energon straight from the wells and natural streams or extracted from ground-up crystals -- which they also cooked in a variety of dishes and sweets -- and on the coast, they even filtered it out of the Rust and Cobalt Seas through enormous distilleries. The mechanimals did not need to fear them -- unless they were predators too dangerous to let running around habitations and, occasionally, more harmless ones threatening the crystal fields. Perhaps it was the reason the doe hadnt fled already, Optimus mused as he shifted Rodimus in his arms to look at the peaceful cyberwildlife duo. She recognized they werent a threat to her and her young, unlike barbarian hunters.

The doe raised her head briefly, audio sensors twitching as if listening for danger before she went back to drink, her fawn having never stopped refueling himself. A smile tugged at the blue and red mech; the scene was just adorable, and from Rodimuss happy coos, he guessed his son was conquered as well, even if he was too young to truly understand the beauty of the moment.

Our son is awake? came a brisk voice outside and Optimus startled a little, tightening his hold on Rodimuss small body and looking right and left in search of the speaker, who he finally spotted right outside, at the edge of the wagon, sitting in its shadow in an attempt to get shelter from the unforgiving giant sun overhead. Why he hadnt come inside the wagon yet, Optimus couldnt fathom, and he knew better than to ask; his Bonded disliked being questioned over anything. Bright red, orange, and yellow paint gleamed under a ray of sun as red optics peered at him over a frowning face, and Optimus forced himself to nod and smile.

He is Flame. Do you want to come in and hold him for a moment? he asked respectfully and -- even if his Bonded seemed unaware of it -- hopefully.

Flame rarely spent time with their Creation, preferring to retire to his office or his laboratory and letting Rodimuss Carrier take sole responsibility for his upbringing. But here in the Wastelands, between two city-states, there was no private ward, no laboratories, no important experiences, and no research papers to redact and publish. It was the perfect time for Flame to show at least a modicum of interest in Rodimus aside from a passing glance and a pat before Optimus took him to his crib for recharge.

But Flame shook his head and Optimus hopes faltered. Still, he didnt show his disappointment, just rocking Rodimus a little against him, making the little one giggle happily. That was a balm on his Spark already. You should put him back in his crib and make sure he gets back to recharge, the flames-painted mech commented as he leaned back against the wheel of the wagon.

It wont work, Optimus commented. He already took a long nap, and he wont fall back asleep so easily now. Indeed, Rodimus was wiggling in his arms, little head turned toward the doe and the fawn still drinking by the stream, pointing at them, and kicking his little legs, obviously eager to run -- or rather, to waddle and stumble -- toward them to see them closer. Flame grimaced briefly but seemed resigned to the fact. Optimus tried to find something to say, to discuss, and scrambled for something. Theyre beautiful, arent they? The Dioptase-Doe and the fawn, he added when Flame glanced up at him. Such pretty colors! And they dont seem to be afraid of us at all. Why is that?