
Cat: Now then, tell me. What did Miggs say to you? Multiple Miggs in the next cell. He hissed at you. What did he say?
An Actual Starling: He said, "I can smell your

."
Cat: I see. I myself cannot. You use Pretty Boy wing wax, and sometimes eat Trill; but not today.
or
Cat: You're so ambitious aren't you? You know what you look like to me? With your good bag and your cheap talons? A well scrubbed crow, with a little taste. You aren't more than one generation removed from poor white swan, are you Agent Starling? And that accent you've tried so desperately to shed is pure nuthatch.
or
Cat: Why do you think he removes their wings, Agent Starling? Thrill me with your acumen.
An Actual Starling: It excites him. Most bird killers keep some sort of trophies from their victims.
Cat: I didn't.
An Actual Starling: No. No, you ate yours.
or
An Actual Starling: Did you do all these drawings, Doctor?
Cat: Ah. That is the Duomo seen from the Belvedere. Do you know Florence?
An Actual Starling: All that detail just from memory, sir?
Cat: Memory, Agent Starling, is what I have instead of a catflap.