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Description
"Predaking."
It was an address and a query all in one, and the dragon was well aware that the number of beings who could so boldly address him were few indeed.

"Yes, my friend?" he said without hesitation, "What troubles you?"

Time had weathered and tempered them both, and now that Predaking had passed his first century, he was beginning to realize how young he truly was. He had almost doubled in size, and it gave him no little amount of satisfaction to know that he had been successfully leading four Predacon clans while barely out of childhood.

"I am concerned about the Predacon that calls himself Megatron." the speaker spit out the name in a low, rumbling growl. "I would not question your decisions normally, but I find myself wondering whether simply banishing him from Cybertron will be sufficient."

"Ah, Storm Soldier," Predaking inclined his head politely. "Is your concern that he will return to Cybertron and wreak vengeance upon the clans that cast him out? Or is your concern that he may turn his eye to other, more vulnerable worlds like Earth?"

A ghost of a smile flickered over the old warrior's faceplates. "You have learned to read me well. Nearly as well as Pax, I should think, if less persistent in irrelevant matters."

"Yes, insisting that you actually stop to rest every now and again is so irrelevant," Predaking snorted, then returned to the issue at hand. "What began as the human Unit has grown under your influence and the influence of the Primes into a clan in its own right, Storm Soldier. I do not think this would-be Megatron will have as much success as he thinks, should he choose to land there."

An almost mischievous smile brightened the monarch's countenance a moment later and he gestured. "Besides, I believe you have a more immediate concern that requires your attention."

"What do you mean?"

Storm Soldier followed Predaking's gaze to see Onyx, youngest of Vanguard's sons, perched on the roof of one of the shelters, calling down to young Strafe. Both were giggling, though it was not clear why, but Strafe's body language was certainly easier to read, as was Onyx's.

His wings were flared out in a showy fashion and he seemed like he was trying to goad the femme into daring him to do something ill-advised. For her part, Strafe was acting uncharacteristically reserved, even coy.

Storm Soldier's optics widened and he surged to his feet. "They are barely seven decades old each! Flirting at this age? Oh-ho, this is not to be borne!"

"Should Vanguard be made aware?" Predaking sounded nearly teasing as he observed the flustered older mech.

"I'll sort it," Storm Soldier grumbled, and strode over to the longhouse to loudly ask Onyx just why he was sitting on the roof when he had lessons to attend to, and just what was Strafe doing here when Velocity had need of her assistance in the clinic?

Predaking hid a smirk at the bluster and privately commed Vanguard to warn him.

(Takes place some years post-epilogue. Because I thought it'd be cute for Onyx and Strafe to flirt awhile, regardless of whether anything comes of it or not)

Description
"Predaking."
It was an address and a query all in one, and the dragon was well aware that the number of beings who could so boldly address him were few indeed.

"Yes, my friend?" he said without hesitation, "What troubles you?"

Time had weathered and tempered them both, and now that Predaking had passed his first century, he was beginning to realize how young he truly was. He had almost doubled in size, and it gave him no little amount of satisfaction to know that he had been successfully leading four Predacon clans while barely out of childhood.

"I am concerned about the Predacon that calls himself Megatron." the speaker spit out the name in a low, rumbling growl. "I would not question your decisions normally, but I find myself wondering whether simply banishing him from Cybertron will be sufficient."

"Ah, Storm Soldier," Predaking inclined his head politely. "Is your concern that he will return to Cybertron and wreak vengeance upon the clans that cast him out? Or is your concern that he may turn his eye to other, more vulnerable worlds like Earth?"

A ghost of a smile flickered over the old warrior's faceplates. "You have learned to read me well. Nearly as well as Pax, I should think, if less persistent in irrelevant matters."

"Yes, insisting that you actually stop to rest every now and again is so irrelevant," Predaking snorted, then returned to the issue at hand. "What began as the human Unit has grown under your influence and the influence of the Primes into a clan in its own right, Storm Soldier. I do not think this would-be Megatron will have as much success as he thinks, should he choose to land there."

An almost mischievous smile brightened the monarch's countenance a moment later and he gestured. "Besides, I believe you have a more immediate concern that requires your attention."

"What do you mean?"

Storm Soldier followed Predaking's gaze to see Onyx, youngest of Vanguard's sons, perched on the roof of one of the shelters, calling down to young Strafe. Both were giggling, though it was not clear why, but Strafe's body language was certainly easier to read, as was Onyx's.

His wings were flared out in a showy fashion and he seemed like he was trying to goad the femme into daring him to do something ill-advised. For her part, Strafe was acting uncharacteristically reserved, even coy.

Storm Soldier's optics widened and he surged to his feet. "They are barely seven decades old each! Flirting at this age? Oh-ho, this is not to be borne!"

"Should Vanguard be made aware?" Predaking sounded nearly teasing as he observed the flustered older mech.

"I'll sort it," Storm Soldier grumbled, and strode over to the longhouse to loudly ask Onyx just why he was sitting on the roof when he had lessons to attend to, and just what was Strafe doing here when Velocity had need of her assistance in the clinic?

Predaking hid a smirk at the bluster and privately commed Vanguard to warn him.

(Takes place some years post-epilogue. Because I thought it'd be cute for Onyx and Strafe to flirt awhile, regardless of whether anything comes of it or not)