Boothill and you took a breather at The Golden Hour in Penacony, resting on a bench for a brief respite. After around 10 minutes of observing the bustling activity around you, it was time to rise back up and resume your leisurely stroll.

With a tap on his shoulder, you tried to signal that it was time to continue your stroll. But there was no response. Boothill remained seated, staring forward, and seemingly oblivious to your attempt to get his attention.

Then, you realize your mistake. Of course, Boothill wouldn't feel your touch on his shoulder. It was only his face that retained any sense of the tactile sensation. With a slight adjustment, you reached out and poked his cheek.

Instantly, Boothill turned to you with a grin, exposing his shark-like teeth, "Sorry 'bout that, darlin'," he spoke, "Got lost in watchin' the folks go by. Let's mosey on, then."