Jackson nodded to her with a bit of understanding in the gesture when she mentioned Pennyworth, as it certainly wasn't the easiest of places to live in the world—and he couldn't imagine being married to Marvolo made it any easier. Lifting the tankard to his lips he took several deep gulps to thoroughly wet his throat. As he placed tankard back on the bar he opened his mouth to speak before being interrupted by raised voices across the room, near the hearth. Jackson slammed the side of his fist into the wood hard enough to make the plates jump and stared daggers at the men playing cards.

“If you're set on scrapping in 'ere, then you'll be scrappin' with me, and you're standin' far too close for them little wands to do you one bit of good.” His voice was deep, and seemed to shout without actually shouting.

When the men fell silent, or at least returned to a more friendly exchange of words, he turn his eyes back on Morgana, “now then... you was sayin' somethin' about your neighbors, weren't you, love?” He said, his voice adopting a more gentle, or at least neutral, tone. A tone that conveyed general interest in her problems.