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Do not regret what is done
Bomb Burst cringed a bit. He had his hearing turned up higher than usual, and all of Warpath's shouting was bothering him.As it was instinct was kicking in for the Vampire, he felt his 'meal' was very threatened at the moment. Jerking his head back as hard as he could, the fangs ripped out of his victim. Tiny little hooks tearing through the Bot's armor, painfully catching, snagging, ripping, though not even the Vampire was immune. With every catch of the hooks, Bomb Burst's fangs tried to stay in his victim, meaning the fangs nearly got ripped out every time they hooked in.Finally free of the Autobot's armor plating, Bomb Burst’s optics locked on to the loudest, most prominent, and thus threatening, object in the room. Warpath.
Pulling Sabre off his back, he tossed the Sword-former off to his left.He hissed at the Autobot tank. The fangs hadn’t gone completely back in, often the case when he was interrupted. No longer doubled in size, but out more than usual, the fangs dripped energon from the victim, the drops splattering on the Autobot himself below. Bomb Burst's entire frame was tensed, ready for attack. He moved his leg carefully into place, so that he was now resting weight on his legs instead of arms, ready to jump into action should Warpath move. He looked lethal like that, able to spring into a deadly attack at any moment, and feeling very protective of his energon source below him.
Energon trickled out of the two holes in the Autobot's neck, mingling with the energon dripping from Bomb Burst's fangs. Quiet, tense moments passed as the rest of the Decepticons did not move per Nightbird's order.
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