[Bumblebee watches the snow practically bury him deeper with Riptide sitting next to him, wriggling his legs to keep him from getting compacted down. Primus, he hates nature, and he picks at a twig that's sticking up through the snow as Riptide talks.]

Yeah, well. I'm the wrong Bumblebee. People expect him, and they get me. And everything is so different that I don't even know how to talk to anybot half the time. [He buries his face in his hands, only glancing when Riptide move to help him up out of the snow. He takes the hand to pull himself up, not expecting it to go any futher than that.] Even Sideswipe thinks I'm the wrong Bee, and his Bumblebee isn't even here.