It took him by surprise when Shooter appeared at his side, though Sideswipe didn’t reveal this outwardly beyond the brief glance to his side. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together now: beyond the masculinity and size difference, he was a mirror image of his mother – even their indifferent expressions matched in that moment. Aurek stood by and refrained from joining in with what seemed to be a deal of difficulty, then spoke to the Regalia Empress in more polite terms than he would have expected from the Mafian. He wasn’t aware of any history between the golden male and the slinking white female, though it wasn’t a surprise – he hadn’t the faintest idea concerning the origins of any present. Truth be told, he was wading amongst complete strangers . . . without exception. Shapshooter was a face made familiar only by the earliest of his days, when he and his siblings had been entirely dependant on her for survival. She’d left before he could properly speak. Amidst all the things he could have spoken for against Rhode, the brindle was at least entitled to the title of devoted – if not doting – father. Before he’d chosen to leave, Sideswipe hadn’t spent more than a day without seeing a flicker of his parent in the trees or across the street, always leaving after a quick check in.

Suddenly, Falcor was mauling the face of the violent intruder. He’d been silently scrutinizing the relationship between his mother and the wounded Mafian when the noises became too vile to be simple threats – when he turned his head, the dog’s face was bleeding afresh. He sent out a paw just as the long haired Regalian relinquished his grip and spoke, simultaneously abandoning his pin and putting his front leg in front of the fallen intruder’s face – a divider of sorts. He was careful to keep it out of immediate striking distance, but it was also firmly planted – he leaned into the limb as though guarding a kill, his face firmly set in a faint but still dangerous scowl. “Now you’re no better than he is,” murmured the white male in a cool, unshakably even tone. He moved off from the guardian-like pose over the ‘foe’ before shouldering into Falcor’s path, cleanly cutting him off from the injured male. Sideswipe stared rather intently at Shooter, almost feline in the casual way his gently slanting eyes narrowed – it certainly wasn’t a hostile expression, but what it did give way wasn’t truly discernible. “I can escort him out,” he offered, more a request than anything. If the answer was no, he would stay so long as they decided to keep the scarred mutt confined.