Wing couldn't be happier really. There's almost a fatigue of spirit as well as body that is his ailment, and Drift's administrations are just what he needs in that regard. If there are any spots missed he can always make up for it later.

Still, Wing shivers a little under those hands, the sensation more than just pleasant. It helps burn away the last of the chill from the cave, and certainly gives him reason to want to recover faster.

A gentle nod, resigned. "I just want answers. I wish they'd trust us with more." Is this the place where Wing's trust in the First Forged ends and his faith must begin? And should he feel remiss that that faith is often questioned? No, he's learned to always question, to seek even the harder truths, because here, he's beginning to feel that he can take nothing for granted.

Wing does cling then, when Drift pulls him in tighter, not fearfully but with a fierce and stubborn type of hold, as if silently daring Unicron himself to break it. He chirrs softly, spark welling within his chassis. "Would you stay with me? I mean, share the room? I. Know there's Vandal and that well, Perceptor's here now too, but..." Wing smiles, hoping that he's not asking too much, "I like it when you're the first thing I see in the morning. I wish it were every morning."