Having never been much of a talker Logan was usually pretty quiet at the station. Usually he was leaned back in his chair, feet kicked up on the desk, and his eyes hidden beneath the brim of a cowboy hat he found at the mall. He was kind of like a cowboy, the strong silent type that didn't take shit from anyone. Cigar kept firmly in place between his teeth as the smoke filtered upward from the glowing end.
"Hey, kid," Logan said to Stiles when he came to his desk. Logan didn't know what it was with young kids being drawn to him, and every time it happened he couldn't help but laugh to himself quietly. He flicked up the end of his hat up so he could look at him properly, and then put the cigar down in the ashtray. Stiles was a good kid, and Logan appreciated the hours that he put in the station even if there wasn't a lot to do at times. He was trying, and he wanted to help. Really that was all anyone could ask of him to do.
"You doin' okay," Logan asked, his voice gruff as ever though his tone wasn't.