Clawthorn (Cybertronian OC)
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Summary
The world ended, and Clawthorn slept through it.
Light-years away from Cybertron, on a small marble planet of lush green and rich blue, Clawthorn slept. Lounging against an old tree, still as stone, she could have been mistaken for the tree itself. Moss blanketed her metal frame. Dirt and time had dulled the shine of her body, and the scuffs and scrapes scattered across her armour told their own tales. She had slept for many years, and would have kept on sleeping, if not for the tiny animal trying to make her chassis its home.
She felt something wriggling underneath her plating and awoke with a cry, shooting to her feet. She yelled, "Guh, get out!" and shook herself, cringing at the sensation of teeny claws tickling her inner workings.
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Separated from her guardians after evacuation, Clawthorn is lost on a remote planet with no way to contact them. Hundreds of years pass and Clawthorn has grown, her frame becoming larger and stronger than should be possible. Cybertronians did not grow, after all - not like organics. Not like her. Clawthorn blames her monoformer nature. There couldn't be anything more... could there?