So he had rejoined at least, from Megatron's perspective. A 'very short time ago' could mean anything though, honestly. Hours? Days? Weeks? Who the hell knows.

He does his best to slip back into that old, hard-wired behavior of being polite and reverent towards Megatron that was the norm during the lengthy span of the war, but even still it feels strange. He hasn't had to tread this lightly in a while. He straightens up, trying to put on a more confident face before answering. His wings still fidget though, like gigantic neon signs that telegraph his true feelings involuntarily. "If you would permit me to ask a question first, Master... What precisely do you remember experiencing the last, before arriving upon this unfamiliar Cybertron...?"