Waspinator's laugh was a strange sound somewhere between a buzz and a giggle.
Terrorsaur had almost begun to forget what it sounded like; here and now, there was little to laugh about. There were too many stressors that came with trying to maintain a sense of normalcy while they were all stranded on Earth with limited resources for much of anything to seem funny. That sound, once so familiar and comforting, was something he hadn't heard -for good reason!- in a very long time.
And yet…Something that Inferno had said had struck the wasp as funny and he giggled, leaning in to rest a hand on Inferno's arm.
The ant, on the other hand, didn't laugh, but he did offer his companion a toothy grin, looking surprisingly at ease with the other insect touching him.
This seemed odd, given that all of Terrorsaur's memories of Inferno involved him having a iron rod so far up his aft he could have expelled steel.
But what was even more unusual was how close and comfortable the two seemed with one another.
Terrorsaur hadn't meant to spy on them; stepping out of the woods, he had just happened to come across the pair sitting on a fallen tree, and he'd stopped to watch, his presence completely undetected.
They were taking the odd moment of spare time to have a break and unwind. Leisure time was still a rarity; they were too busy surviving to slack off. But the two of them seemed completely relaxed and the way they were sitting -so close together!- suggested some hint of intimacy that made Terrorsaur squirm a little.
Waspinator and Inferno…? Nah; there was no way in the pit!
But their dynamic had been different lately; they almost acted much more like equals. Like partners.
What had happened to them after Terrorsaur died?
Waspinator didn't talk about it -wouldn't talk about it- and Terrorsaur wasn't about to ask Inferno or Quickstrike. Discussing personal feelings had never been something any of them were comfortable with, unless those feelings were in regards to their teammates or the Maximals, and now Terrorsaur was finding that he perhaps didn't know Waspinator as well as he believed.
The wasp wasn't at all as clumsy or stupid or useless as he had once thought.
In fact, Waspinator was more functional than any of them would ever have guessed. He was incredibly skilled in repairs, especially of small finicky parts. Terrorsaur supposed this might have something to do with the sheer amount of time Waspinator had spent repairing himself, but…then again, it might have been a natural talent.
Also, Waspinator was, surprisingly, a compassionate individual. He didn't really fit the typical Predacon mold and that was part of why so many of their comrades dismissed him so readily. It was also part of what intrigued Terrorsaur about him; how could the bug possibly have been through everything he'd survived and still be so…so…kind? Waspinator was no bleeding heart, not by any means, but he had a healthy amount of empathy for others when they had been blown apart, literally, verbally or otherwise.
He commanded a sort of quiet respect that Inferno was apparently more than willing to give.
Terrorsaur had failed to see these things that Inferno was now recognizing -and Inferno must have loved it, given his penchant to attempt organizing them into a cohesive "Colony"- failed to see them in all the long time he had known Waspinator. He hadn't looked hard enough; hadn't seen any of those redeeming qualities that proved Waspinator was more than a clumsy fool.
And that was why Waspinator was freely looking at Inferno with that adoring, trusting look he used to save for Terrorsaur.