Saturday is too busy gingerly checking the box Catra had gotten in, replacing anything awry. Once Catra has retrieved the belts, she takes one grenade from her array and sits cross-legged on the ground, her own belt in her lap.

"Okay, this is your basic frag grenade," she begins, holding the grenade up so Catra can see. "From what I've seen, you're right-handed. So you hold it like this. See? Keep the lever on the side pressed, and your finger off the ring until you're ready t'throw."

With her other hand, she opens the pouches on the belt. "It goes in like this. Keep the lever down, it's part of the safety mechanism. You slide it in like so, so that the cloth keeps the level pressed for you, an' keep the ring down 'cause that's farthest from the pin. Strap 'em in like so. There we go. And done."

She stretches her arms out about a meter. "This is a meter. Killzone for a boom like this is five meter raidus. 15 meter radius, serious wounds. Up to two hundred thirty for scratches, cuts, bruises, concussions, general real bad time. One of these tossed in a room reduces everything in it to chunky salsa. Don't use them lightly."