At Tarn's words, Sixshot flickers his optics shut and cycles air out in a long, slow sigh. He considers telling Tarn about the Reapers then and there. Get the truth out of the way and get himself properly Listed. This alliance wasn't going to last anyways and now that he thought of it...

Maybe he could die. Maybe he should. He was an obsolete weapon and a deserter to boot. What was left? His life had just been empty.

It takes a little while for Sixshot to shake off the sudden gloom enough to move. He stretches slowly as he stands up and then lowers his massive canine head down until his nose nearly bumped against Tarn's chest plate, ear nubs at reachable height. The four-legged equivalent of offering a hand to help a mech up.

"Show me where the base is?" he asks quietly.