"We don' like strangers," one of the men says, tentatively, before another smacks him on the back of the head, for being an idiot. "A Gearman, you say?" the one who looks most in charge asks, peering suspiciously at the strange construct. "Is that what you are, then? A Gearman?" "'Ey, boss, we prolly don't want to be messing wit' one o' them... they're supposed to be real nasty." "Alright, fine. But don't you go causing trouble, you hear?" The six men continue to shoot suspicious glances, at both the construct and the two women who came to his aid, but slowly disperse, leaving them alone, as the caravan moves onward, into the city.