Drift didn't need any preternatural ability to tell the mood dropped by several degrees, and he could take a shot in the dark as to why. It would seem Cybertronians didn't need to be around for organics to form their prejudices all the same. The pointed sensors on Drift's helm lent him a somewhat felid appearance flag ever so slightly.

"I'm not a droid. My species are naturally occurring and made from living metal- we're born, live, and die like anyone else. Hard for any human to make something like me when I'm millions of years old, don't you think?" Drift hoped his smile was disarming enough that Cobb could put aside his mistrust.

"This Tatooine, let me guess- it's a lawless scrap pit, and you're probably one of the few who give a damn about stopping the relentless corruption and senseless killings?"