[A camera comes on, seeming as though it was probably jostled alive inadvertently. By the scream of jet engines in the immediate background and the sight of distant ground and rather close rock walls sliding rapidly by, one can guess it's one of just a handful of-]
Fraggit, stay down!
[Ah, right. That low growl would be Thundercracker. As the wild and random camera view continues constantly shifting and swinging about, pierced by rounds of rifle-fire, the patient (and strong-stomached) viewer not prone to motion sickness will eventually make out that he's strafing a small herd of Badlands centipedes in a ravine.]
[Finally, the last of them stops moving apparently because the camera stops twisting around, leveling off. Maybe it's a moment of playful orneriness, or maybe the walls just narrow too much for his wingspan, but Thundercracker tilts himself up on a wingtip, following the wall with his belly mere feet from the craggy stone.]
[With a sudden crack and burst of rock dust and debris, another centipede breaks from the wall just as the camera is passing by! The Seeker's startled yelp degrades instantly into a snarl, cut short with a crash and sound of shattering glass that miiiiiight be his canopy collapsing under the impact with the opposite wall. The impact also shuts off the camera. Either that, or it's the centipede leg that slapped at it.]
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