[All that talk of pushing limits and Wing is doing it for certain. He's hurtling at his top speed to Haven, screaming past the temples and into the junk pile, towards the map ping of Vandal's makeshit home. He comes in wide, air-brakes roaring as the jet cuts an arc around the clearing, trying to kill as much momentum as he can. It's reckless, and not the prettiest of maneuvers, but it gets him to a nearby mound of junk. Transforming in a whirl of spinning red and white metal he hits the ground running.]

[He notices Perceptor, then Vandal, then the saw. He's venting air and heat like mad and his breath hitches at the sight.]

Vandal... Perceptor--thank goodness.

[He doesn't have breath for much else yet.]