[Prowl, you're huge and you're made of metal. Dun would be impressed if you could walk one end of the alley to the other without knocking over trash-cans and making a racket.]

Then I see no reason to satisfy your prying. You may take your intrigue and direct it somewhere else. I don't appreciate your interest in our affairs so unless you can somehow produce Arcee from that tin body of yours there is nothing for us to discuss.