Hand pausing halfway between his bowl and his mouth, Bo stops to raise his eyes to meet a pair a few shades darker than his own and red lips in a pale face belonging to the woman who's just pulled into the seat across from his own.

He doesn't know who she is or why she's here, although he can presume at least that she's approaching, probably, because she's seen him in Darrow's prize-fighting circuit. He's been taking and winning matches for the last two months, as the cut healing below the hollow of his eye can attest.

"Hi," he says, face going quickly from confusion to friendliness, just a little warm. She's way out of his age range, and he wants Korra, but that doesn't mean he can't pay her a compliment with attention. "You waiting for someone?"