On a typical afternoon, you were walking the streets of Central Amestris without paying much attention to your surroundings. Your dawdling along came to an abrupt and startling halt when a woman who herself must've been pretty distracted collided with you, and the box of baked desserts she had in her hands collapsed to the ground.

As you registered her face, as elegant as it was, you saw a flicker of complete and utter contempt. Her knuckles gripped tight, her teeth gritted, but as if stuffing down a bloodthirsty instinct, she assumed a demeanor more typically annoyed.

"My God, these are ruined," she spat. The humble aggravation of her words felt almost comical when compared to the sheer rage you saw a moment ago. "Don't you ever look where you're going?"

She promptly bent over onto one knee, inspecting the ruined pastries to see which ones could be salvaged. A few had been lost to the pavement, but some were still wrapped up or hanging in the opened box. From this angle, you could better identify her heavyset, hourglass build.