Huaisang's not sure what to make of this person. It's clear from the lack of mindless holiday cheer that he's been brought here like Huaisang. It's some comfort that they've all been put into family units with other people who have been brought here, since he's sure it would be worse if he were assigned into a family of these smiling drones. At least this way his house feels like it offers a measure of privacy and safety.

"They're festive," Huaisang argues lamely, aware of the listening ears around him in the line, all those locals who don't seem real but do seem ... attentive. "But I don't understand why they're metal. Is there a lack of real trees in the area, or is it a way of showing off wealth?"