It's one thing to know that he's good with kids, but quite another to have that ability acknowledged and admired outwardly by someone else. Kit looks away with an abashed smile at that nudge and lifts up a hand to rub at the back of his neck. "Well, thanks," he says, a little flustered, because what else can he say? For a few more moments he keeps his eyes on the little girl animatedly talking to her parents--ostensibly telling them where she is and what happened, before they can come collect her.

Then, glancing Rutile's way again, he says a little more quietly, "You shouldn't sell yourself short, though. Plenty of parents where I come from don't give a damn about their little ones--or anyone else's. You care," he says meaningfully. "That's more than some kids ever get."

The little girl, having ended her call, comes skipping back over to Kit and Rutile with brightness in her eyes. "They're coming to get me," she announces happily. "Can I have some ice cream?"

"I dunno," Kit answers, grinning, "can you?" time for dad jokes apparently.