Ferguson sat in his chair beside the fireplace and scratched his chin thoughtfully. Kitt had, with many pauses to sniffle or sip at his scalding hot tea, recounted what must have been most of his life and travels. The old wolf leaned back in his chair and sighed a deep sigh "Hmn... Well son, you definitely have been through more than most young 'uns." He then leaned forward, walking stick in hand "Tell me, what did you do with that necklace of your mothers?"
Kitt, head bowed beneath his hood, mumbled shamefacedly "I- I thrown it in the mud..."
Ferguson raised an eyebrow and jabbed Kitt in the shoulder with the end of his walking stick "And is that how to treat a belonging of your mothers? Son, I think she raised you better than that."
He waited a moment before picking Kitt up by his cloak, again showing unexpected strength for such an old man, and set to brushing off the dried mud "What you are going to do is go back and find that necklace, and then you are going back to that Inn and you will apologise to that White fellow for shouting at him... Some people in this world have life easy, others don't. You just got to square your shoulders and take it son, no point moping and sulking."
Kitt merely mumbled, before Ferguson jabbed him in the ribs with his walking stick again "Take it from an old man who has seen enough of the world for his liking. You've done well child, most woulda' given up long before you... Now get out there, and make a man of yourself. No point sulking and becoming sour like me." And with that he opened the door and let Kitt back out into the rain, giving him a somewhat affectionate pat on the shoulder before the door closed again...