Grif is exercising. Sort of. He guesses. It's still a battle to admit that's what he's doing, and that it's maybe not the worst thing in the world if someone sees him at it. Running laps through the hab deck can totally be something else, right?

He's so wrapped up in this that it takes him a little to notice this section is both A) new and B) weird as hell.

The orange blur shooting across the hills of Cybertron backs up, then stops.

"Huh."