Ironhide is a hard bot to miss, whether he's just strolling down the street or charging across a battlefield. Krok spots that bright red paint about the same time that Ironhide starts slowing on the approach and Krok lets out a sigh he didn't realise he'd been holding. Old reflexes die very hard.

He's not so entrenched in memories of the war, however, that he doesn't cock his head and give Ironhide a queer look. He doesn't quite laugh, but there's a hint of it in his voice.

"Nobody? Around the shopping district?" he wonders, maybe teasing just a little. Mostly incredulous.