"Look, they're everywhere." Skyfire waved his hand and the white bits of spun cotton scattered. What are they? Where'd they come from? His mind turned over a slew of questions that required answers.
He grabbed at the fuzzy pieces in an attempt to get a closer look but they evaded his grasp as if they knew what he was attempting to capture them.
There was a small group of mech watching Skyfire, most shaking their heads, a couple amused. It was a fine late spring day, clear skies, warm temperatures, a steady but gentle breeze and it had been decided that a trip to the river was in order. Since they were going to walk, no driving or flying, Skyfire joined them. When they'd arrived he'd been instantly mesmerized by the drifting cotton.
They'd stopped at a slow moving area of the river and a few had decided, when they saw the cotton, to return to the Ark. Most ignored the stuff and settled down to enjoy the few moments of peace. They all knew what it was, having already been through one Spring on Earth, but this was the giant jet's first Spring since his release from the ice last Summer.
Skyfire looked up into the sky, face turned into the breeze and traced the direction the cotton fluff was coming from. Without a word, he headed off, his desire for information outweighing any caution.
As he traveled along the riverbank, the fluff grew thicker, piling up on the ground like warm snow. The water was covered in it and more kept accumulating. Each step he took raised clouds of the cotton. It began to stick to his faceplate and tickle his armor with light, gentle touches. Bending down, he picked up a handful and examined it closely. He could make out the tiny seeds the cotton protected and carried with it in the wind.
Now he had to know what grew from the tiny seeds. He continued to walk, ignoring the cotton accumulating on his own body, pulling tight against air intakes. Finally, his explorations brought him into a grove of trees that dwarfed him. He looked around in amazement. The trees were full of seed-filled cotton that was released with every gust of wind. If temperature hadn't been in the mid seventies, he would've sworn it was snowing. Not just snowing but a blizzard. He drew in a breath in awe and gasped. He coughed and managed to dislodge some of the fluff that had blocked every single intake, but it wasn't enough.
Not good, he thought. Caught off-guard by the sudden inability to circulate oxygen, he didn't have time to switch to his onboard supply before he toppled over unconcious.
He awoke to find Hound smiling cheerfully at him as the scout cleaned out the Cottonwood fuzzies from his intakes.
"Heard you hit the ground," Hound said when he saw that Skyfire was awake. "Why'd you take off?"
"I had to know..."
"You could've asked," Hound chuckled.
"What fun is that?" Skyfire responded, eager to resume exploring the grove.