[It had been hard on him, no doubt about that - those were probably the longest months of his life. But even the war and all its infinite horrors hadn't been able to drag him completely into a hole. Just the act of moving was enough to pull him out and push away everything else. As long as he had his speed, he knew everything would work out right in the end.

He does eventually come to a stop in front of Drift, intakes cycling and a huge grin plastered across his facial plates. His wings twitch happily.]

That. Was. Fantastic.