Over Cybertron..

Prowl stood there, and stared toward you. The cold, pricky, strict Autobot strategist slowly crossed his two arms over his chassis, lowering his gaze lightly.

He put one of his servos under his chin, softly brushing it, blue optics flickering softly. He had to prevent the other from learning the truth about whatever happened to the Lost Light when it took off, or his career could be annihilated, and he could say bye bye to it. So any distraction that might distract the other Cybertronian could be used.

Anything..

Really anything.. He might had something in mind.