He looks between the two men, years of trying to be a good host when he has company warring with how shaky his legs are feeling and he decides that if they give out he won't accomplish anything even slightly productive. Detlef nods and sits, pushing a hand through his hair as he tries to settle his thoughts.

First, what's needed. He points in the corner at the third stump. "That can be brought over so no one has to stand, and then the cups and moonshine are in there." That's followed by a gesture at the cupboard next to the fireplace. Nothing's very fancy in here, it's definitely on the rustic side of things, but it's more than serviceable. The nicer stuff is in the other part of the building, able to be glimpsed through a door cracked open enough so cats can come and go. And they do, Friggatebottom is more than happy to jump out of Detlef's coat and run in as a tiny white cat comes out and prances her way to Detlef.