*With a final brush stroke, he steps back and looks on at his painting. He’s actually rather proud of it, considering that it’s his practice with landscapes. He then looks on at the mountain, thinking.

It looked like there was a face carved into it, looking solemnly at the setting sun approaching its destination. He couldn’t help but wonder who could have done that, if anyone did it at all.

Carefully, he picked up his painting and stored his supplies, walking back to the base with a content sigh.*

The bulky mech got to his base, safe and sound. However, the past few hours continued to haunt him a little.

He passed by his comrades, saying a hello or two, going straight to his berth.

He was tired, having stayed out for longer than he should have, and yet the events that occured today egged at him from the back of his mind. Sitting on the berth for just a while, he remembered that it was the human holiday–Thanksgiving, right?–and mulled on the idea a little.

Bee and Wasp crossed his mind, and he was silently thankful that he was able to meet them.

He just hoped Bee was doing all right.

With a troubled processor, he recharged.