Thomas had received a letter, he didn't even know from who. A lawyer maybe based on the fancy scribbles. He couldn't really read but he got the gist that someone was coming. His granddaughter. So there he was standing still at a fine spot where he could watch for the people to arrive by train. There wouldn't be many, it was Whitby after all. 

The figure had a deep set frown etched onto his face, one that looked like it had been there since he was born. The man looked at his old cracked pocket watch and there was a tug on his vest. "No' now." After a moment, there was another tug. He looked to the side and waved his hand to get the nibbling mouth away. He stared into the bizarre eyes of a milky white goat, and when they made eye contact, it baa'd at him. He rose his large wild eye brows and frowned baa'ing back at it. Then he heard the distant sound of a train. "Quiet now, this 'as gotta be 'er." 

He tightened his grip on the leash that was attached to the goat as well as another, this one an off white with large splotches of chestnut brown. He glared at a few people who gave him a strange look, ignoring the fact that the piebald goat was now eating a newspaper someone had dropped.

Mabel was annoyed, sad and angry. But most of all she was just tired. After her parents unexpected deaths, the young singer had believed that one of her elder brothers would take responsibility for her. Yet here she was on a train in a different country heading to the care of someone she had never even meet before. Well she was sure that her grandfather would be a perfectly fine parental figure, she couldn't help but feel like he might have been her parents last choice. Because who in their sane mind would send her this far away from home to a little town in the middle of no where?

Yet as the train stopped, she lagged her luggage behind her and pulled her coat closer around her once she was on the plate form. Her eyes scanned the area for someone who resembled her mother.

He was trying to watch for this child that may or may not have been on the train. There were not that many people, but enough for him to not search every face. They came and they went, all knowing exactly where they were heading too. He was about to look at the ones who trailed behind when there was a tug again. "Hey! Can you not see I'm busy 'ere??" He looked at his goat friend and waved his hand to make it let go of his coat. When he looked up again there was one remaining person. She was young, the age matched up. He frowned more as he saw his daughter but something else too.

"Guess it's true then." He took a deep breath and walked over. He cleared his throat and kept a tight hold on the leashes. "You Mabel, are ya? Guess that makes me your grandfather. You can call me Thomas or Tom." He held out his hand to shake hers.

Maybe he had forgotten? Or perhaps she had gotten off at the wrong station? Yet as she was about to let herself feel hope in that, an older man made his way towards her with... goats?

She looked at him for a moment before gently placing her hand in his. Was this weird for him as well? Maybe... “Hello Thomas.”

Thomas looked confused when she put her hand in his. He dropped it quickly though not roughly. "Ah, good. You got it. Now it's a long walk back but I suppose you can't make it that far can you? Living in a big town in France or whatev'r it was? I live on th' edge of town. I's just me an' the goats. " He was sure his daughter didn't know, but he wasn't going to tell her yet. "Your moth'r, she never told you a thing about me did she? probably acted like I didn't exist." He grumbled angrily as he gripped the leashes and walked.