... so this is what we recieve from our captors, hmn? A reminder of all we have been taken from?
Hmpf. Foolish. Should just leave us be.
[Ironhide is still in the bar, for all interested parties, where it's warm and he's left relatively alone. Or so he believes. He's currently hunched up in a corner, being a brooding black lump. One of the picture-type gifts from the tree is in his hand, and if anyone approaches they may get a brief look
at what it is.]