Tarn crosses his arms, scowling at Sentinel.

“Maybe so, but I don’t see how you’re entitled to it either.” He rasps, optics flashing in warning.

He doesn’t back down, instead Tarn takes a step forward, glaring up at the mech on the ridge, daring him make a move. Unwilling to offer any reasoning for them to be trolling the wastes for scraps, Tarn risks a glance back at Spinister and shoots him a silent look that demands he do the same. He can’t have anyone else knowing that he’s exposed and vulnerable out here; it will only lead to trouble.