The explosion threw Hound back and he tried to keep from crying out as his back and then his head hit the rocky hill.  When Wheeljack slammed into him, crushing his front grill, he couldn't keep his vocalizer quiet.  "Ow, Primus, ow!"

Wheeljack didn't respond and a quick glance revealed that the engineer had taken the brunt of the blast and was offline.

Hound rubbed his dented helmet and then painfully pushed the stocky mech off of him.  With a sigh over his own damage, he inspected the damage on Wheeljack.  It wasn't severe and Hound suspected the Lancia had hit his head on Hound's front grill explaining his lack of consciousness.

Another explosion shook the ground and gravel and dirt showered down on them from the cliff.  Hound ducked instinctively and looked around for a hiding place.

A moment later, the scout was dragging the unconscious engineer towards a thicket of tall, thin trees and high bushes.  He groaned and dropped the mech pushing him under a particularly large and shady bush and then following on his hands and knees.

A more distant explosion made the ground tremble but Hound didn't pay any attention as he examined his own damage and plucked a few bits of gravel and glass from a shattered headlight.

What a mess, he thought, and it's not even Wheeljack's fault this time.  Big explosions could usually be linked to the engineer but this time he could escape any blame.  The blasts were caused by enemy fire.  Specifically, Blitzwing taking potshots at anything that moved.

They seemed safe enough now, so Hound laid his aching cranial unit on the ground and gave up on trying to stay conscious.

The feeling of being watched finally roused Hound.  He onlined his optics and found himself staring into Wheeljack's optics.  The engineer's expression was hard to read but his ear panels flashed brightly.  He also noted that the Lancia's white paint seemed to glow in the gloom.  Why hadn't he noticed that before?  Because it had been daylight before and his processor had taken a whack and all he had cared about was getting them undercover and out of sight.

Hound pushed himself up onto his elbow and Wheeljack settled back onto his heels.  

"How're you feeling?" the white rally car asked quietly.  "I did a few repairs but there wasn't much I could do without all of my equipment." He waved a hand at bushes and the dirt.  "This isn't the Ark, after all."

Hound rubbed his head again.  "I'm okay.  What about you?  When did you wake up?"

Wheeljack blinked for a moment.  "About an hour ago.  What happened?  All I know is, I can safely say, 'It wasn't my fault.'"

"Blitzwing happened."  He stopped and sniffed the air.  "Shhhh," he hissed.  Then he heard the footsteps.   Wheeljack heard them too and froze.  Hound winced as the other mech's head fins blinked an excited pattern.  

The footsteps passed by and Hound frowned at Wheeljack.  "We've got to hide those things," he whispered and reached out to touch the head fins.

Wheeljack pulled his head away from the scout's fingers.  "I can't just turn them off, you know.  And don't touch," he muttered.

Hound looked around for an idea and his optics settled on a darker spot at the edge of the thicket.  "Mud," he said.  

"Mud? On my head?"

"Mud.  All over you.  You glow like a full moon."  He crawled over to the mud and scooped up a double handful and reached again for Wheeljack's head fins.

"Don't touch.  I'll do it," he said with resignation and took the mud.  He reached up to apply the thick goo and then looked at Hound.  "Are you sure this is a good idea? I'm not too keen on it."

Hound had another handful of mud and was ready to apply it to the Lancia's chest.  "Just do it," he said and slapped the mud onto Wheeljack's body.  Wheeljack yipped at the feeling of the cold, wet dirt but held still.  He carefully applied his handfuls to his head fins, covering them completely.

Hound looked him over.  With a satisfied nod, he said, "Okay, now we can wait here until the 'Cons leave."

Wheeljack nodded unhappily and settled down in an attempt to look like a rock.

Apparently successful in that endeavor, several hours later, the two mechs limped into the Ark and were hussled to the med bay.  Relief was evident all around them and they both soon learned that a search party had been sent out but had found no sign of them.   

Hound grinned. "It was a good idea, wasn't it?"  he said nodding at the dried mud clinging to Wheeljack's helmet and head fins.

"I have to admit," Wheeljack replied.  "It was one of your better ones."