You step on the dock and cautiously make your way to the end, it's unstable beneath your feet as it's a floating dock. The fog has drifted and is now obscuring most of the dock.
The old man is still digging through his box, but his tune abruptly stops when he hears your steps. He turns around, brandishing a small knife, but lowers it when he sees you. You notice he's holding a piece of wood, and his tackle box is full of half done wood carvings. "Eh, what do you want? I'm busy!" He sneers, but he just looks tired.
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