"Eh."

Winry didn't have half her tools with her, hadn't absorbed more than an impression that people thought they were here to fight and this was nowhere she recognized, and now she was in the middle of a group of strangers with people babbling about war and being ready and training and all sorts of nonsense she didn't have time for.

"Eh?" Looking at the strange, thin box they'd handed her, she was even more at a loss. Why were they handing out plastic containers they wanted people to talk with? Who talked with plastic containers?

Flipping it open only produced further irritation and confusion. How were they going to keep anything in this? What kind of radio was it meant to be? She'd never seen dials like that! Where was the antennae?

"Will someone explain what the hell is really going on?!"

Asking in the middle of a group of people in the same situation wasn't going to get answers. Everyone here looked lost, confused, or like a refugee. She'd come out of that whirlpool of despair and pain, she knew it.

So where the heck was this?