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.