Prowl didn't need to be told twice. Tires shriek as the armored grill spins around and reverses his position in one fell swoop. Although his movements were well controlled, the Wastelands had never been inhabited. Those Insecticons weren't supposed to be there. Moreover, they'd managed to slip past his sensors.

Prowl's profile flares up as an assortment of weaponry rises out of the smooth metal chassis too absurd to be anything other than Cybertronian. He doesn't point it as the bike speeding away, but at the horde fast approaching.

Quickly catching up to Verity as she sped towards the wilds, he began to pick off stragglers that managed to fly ahead, methodical bursts of energy shots ringing off with weighted reverberation. Attention split between the Insecticons and following Verity, the pressure is placed off her.

"You've found quite the escape route," he snips sarcastically.