Deckard flinches awake, his mind registering only two things to start with - he's sore, and he's cold. No, really . . . he's COLD. And wet . . . in and under places he really shouldn't be, seeping through transformation seams and under access panels.

He shifts with a groan and starts to sit up when one more piece of data registers - there's a weight on his chest, a roughly human-shaped one. The cameras in his eyes finally power up, and he looks down at himself. "Ah!" He tries not to dislodge the slender young woman as he works an arm free from . . . snow? Snow. Wow, deep snow. Works one arm free from the snow to get his hand around her to support her as he sits up slowly. Damn . . . she'll freeze out here if he doesn't do something.

Where . . . where is "here", anyway?

He spots a somewhat familiar - ?? - looking . . . he looks like Thundercracker, only green. His fellow Haven police officer had talked about another of his own having arrived a while back. "Jade . . . wing? Jadewing? Are you all right?"

He would worry about where they were in a moment. Companions' wellbeing always came first in his mind.