Tracks crouched in the deep shadow of an enormous rock. The shadow was deeper than the black night that surrounded him but it wasn't enough to hide his bright flame decal that seemed to glow and hiding was very important to him at the moment.
During an intense skirmish with a small group of Decepticons, he'd been separated from the rest of his team when he'd hit a patch of rocks that practically tore out his undercarriage. The pain had been incredible and he'd had to transform. Somehow, he'd managed to crawl to his present hiding place.
Unfortunately, it wasn't a great hiding place, nothing but shadows and a wall behind him. He pushed himself as deeply into the shadowly depths of the rock as he could and listened for the sounds of the Decepticons that he knew were pursuing him.
His hands slid through mud and he grasped two handfuls. With the disgust obvious on his faceplate, he smeared his chest with the mud. Once his decal was covered, he huddled low to the ground to wait.
Seconds later, he heard footsteps crunching on the stony ground and then a monotone voice giving orders to others Tracks couldn't see or hear. He shuttered his optics and waited. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Soundwave moved on, his footsteps vanishing into the darkness.
Tracks resisted the urge to relax, holding back his sigh of relief in case Soundwave's sensitive audios picked up the sound and waited for someone to come find him.