Tough Love

FROM ONE THING TO THE NEXT

"Alright, Thunderhoof, let's try walking. Careful now!"

"Blades, stop babying the 'Con."

"If memory serves me right, Bumblebee told you not to refer to him as Con, Heatwave!"

"I'll get around to it! Eventually."

"How's about yous two agree to disagree and move on?" Thunderhoof snapped, steadying himself on his pedes by leaning against the medical slab he's been stuck on for nearly a week.

"Easier said than done, I'm afraid," Boulder answered sheepishly in place of his brothers.

"Hey, it's not my fault that Heatwave doesn't listen!" Blades exclaimed.

"I do listen!" Heatwave retorted. "It's just a matter of whether I like it or not, and I still don't like any of this!"

Thunderhoof tuned-out the quarreling bots as he focused on his footing, putting one ped in front of the other and gradually moving away from the berth. It was strange, standing once again after all that time on his aft. He nearly forgot how good it felt to move around, how he could control his movements without being restricted to one little area. The only downside is the small twinge of pain from his injured hoof, though it is far less excruciating than it was back on the beach.

"Eyo, what?" Thunderhoof said, slightly startled by his suddenly obstructed vision. He reached up, grabbed whatever was on his faceplate, and lifted it away.

"Oh."

It was Steeljaw's daughter. The pup's optics widened and blinked, clearly taken aback by the unanticipated action.

"What were yous doin' up here, hm?"

Thunderhoof didn't expect Steeljaw's daughter to actually answer, but she did, in a manner of speaking; she just pointed to Thunderhoof's antlers with an outstretched claw.

"What, you find 'em interestin' or something?"

Steeljaw's daughter smiled and bobbed her helm, ears giving a little bounce.

"Eh, at least yous seem to understand what I'm sayin'. . ."

Thunderhoof looked around the adjoining room and spotted a large bench – one meant for their kind – in a corner and decided that it would be as good a place as any to sit down and have a chat with his charge. Granted, it'll mostly be one-sided, as the Cervicon is the only one of the two who can talk, but if Steeljaw's daughter is already understanding speech, then it's only a matter of time before she starts talking back.

"In that case, let's lay down a few rules..."

Thunderhoof strode over to the bench and took a seat, placing the pup on his knee joint.

"Rule number one: DO NOT touch the antlers! Capiche?"

Steeljaw's daughter tilted her helm. That's it. No expression to work off of.

"Why yous lookin' at me like that?"

"Maybe she doesn't understand what the word capiche means."

It took Thunderhoof a few too many seconds to realize that somebody else answered him, and that he wasn't imagining the voice coming from Steeljaw's daughter. He recognized who spoke, though.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, I just wanted to check-in," Cody apologized, careful not to squeeze whatever he has in his hands as he shifts under Thunderhoof's gaze.

"Don't know why you would," Thunderhoof huffed, rolling his shoulders. "It ain't like I'm goin' anywhere anytime soon. I'm stuck here till things at home go back to normal."