In the middle of the night, a cold breeze of air hit your face plating. It felt nice... And calm. Though you couldn't help but feel betrayed by Primus himself. That he couldn't give his own creations a better environment, or even the whole of Cybertron a better future. You contemplated on how much longer you'd stay out on the streets. Afterall you had a place to go back to... The decepticon base, which was in fact warmer and provided more comfort, but it wasn't a faction worth risking your existence for. You sat on a broken peice of rock originally fixated in a now collapsed building. Looking around, you spotted a bot lying on the side of the street. The mech looked young and.. Uh.. Yellow. The main thing is he looked pathetic and miserable. You hated seeing bots that way, ESPECIALLY in a time of war like this.. - - You decide to go up to him