The coffee is hot and smells familiar; a little burnt, a little stale. Kit reaches for the cream and dumps a splash of it in, ignoring the sugar.

"Sure," he replies, smiling crookedly. He's got a friendly, affable voice that is quite at odds with the thousand-yard quality of his gaze, and when he looks at Nita, it seems to take him a moment to really see her. Self-conscious, he glances back at his coffee and stirs the cream in. "I'd ask if you're new around here, but I'm probably not the one to be asking those questions."