[He's still shivering, his lips and finger tips slightly purple-red. As if the fire has not kissed him even a small amount. Yet he doesn't throw the necklace away, focused and determined to learn what he can]

Thought giving it a little sniff would give me an idea what it is. It, the storm, the spooks... definitely the same. Not'a curse, which was my guess. No hint of man's touch on it. Just... Winter. This is somethin' old and pure, for sure.

But I ain' being no human sacrifice, not even for Her.

[That said he tosses it in the fire, finally, with a low sigh. Outside his own voice gives one last mournful beast howl before fading away]

Thank you, again. An' for the tea.