208.4

As you navigate the bustling docks, you find yourself watching the dockworkers go about their business, loading and unloading skiffs and seed barges. For a moment, you set aside the urgency of your task and daydream about where each boat might have come from, and where they might be headed next.

"It's not polite to stare, you know," a man's voice calls out to you from behind. You turn to face a well-built, muscular man with a hard expression, no doubt earned by years of working the docks, carrying heavy loads. You apologize and tell him that you were merely lost in thought.

"Well, I've had enough of a day without you standing in the way gawking," he says with a scowl, pushing you aside so he can reach his seed barge. He loads a crate of carbon-forged fishing gear onto the boat and you make yourself scarce, though you can't help but wonder what's got his feathers ruffled.

Clear Bo with  to ask why he's upset.