Jazz strolled into the training grounds, a few small birds hopping and perching across his shoulders and arms. He paused when he spotted Prowl meditating nearby, optics narrowing in contentment.

“Hey, Prowl,” Jazz called softly, careful not to disturb the stillness around the other Autobot. He tilted his head, a smile tugging at his faceplate. “You were right. Those… Earth birds, or whatever we’re calling them… they really do come when you do that thing. And, uh… they’re actually pretty cool.”

One of the birds hopped onto his hand, pecking curiously at his servo.