"Sounds way too smeltin' stressful," Cliffjumper muttered, relaxing despite the biting cold - or maybe, rather, stopping guarding against his frame wanting to cut down on activity, "don't see why you would wanna do that kind of work."

He knew it was - probably - necessary work, the spec ops, the spies, all that, but beyond the fact that the relative ease they at least seemed to go between each faction, hidden or not made his circuits itch, it all seemed like a lot of weight on a few individuals on the hope of useful intel.

"... least the o-only thing we've got against us right now is the weather, huh?" He briefly revved his engine, dumping more heat as he curled up against himself - and tried not to be aware of Mirage, plating chilled or not.