"Train," Alley repeats, "a train station. I don't know what any of that means. Is it a threat, or not?"

It's big, it's loud, and it moved. Her instinct to get just out of attacking range to 'gear up' had taken over. Had her usual gear been on her, she'd have the shield bolted to her 'arm' by now, and be advancing on the thing with her mace out and crackling in her hand.

Without her gear, she's making do. Glancing around now in the hopes of finding something to swing, somewhere among all the leaves.