Grimlock

The Dinobots were idly pounding scrap metal into compressed pieces: more like play than real training, but they were as always an aesthetic pleasure to behold in their destructive power.

“Pretty impressive, huh?” Ironhide said.

“Indeed,” Cyclonus said. He had to sternly repress the desire to ask if he might join them: he had rarely had so effective a fighting partner as Grimlock, and his systems were still flinching with involuntary satisfaction merely from seeing Cybertronians like this—out in the open under the sky, confident in their security, relaxed enough to give themselves the pleasure of play.