Zephyr caught sight of the Inn, and decided that would be a better place to try, and simply hoped it had better company therein, or he might be leaving before night was upon them. He was a drifter, he didn't have a place to call home, and that was what his life demanded. It was then the man, who judging by the armor and weapon, was leader of the militia, shot at both the rude elf, and to him about not causing trouble.<strong>"Words like to people you barely know have likely caused more trouble than I have in my short stay."</strong>Zephyr's words were shot back, he wasn't about to let this bastard intimidate him.<br/><br/>His eyes held onto the man for a second longer, before he stepped down from the steps of the tavern, thinking heavily of leaving the village before this got any worse. Zephyr didn't like places that were this unfriendly, and he bet that soldier was about to go indulge in a nice helping of stew while children went hungry in the streets. He shook his head, thinking that something was not right here.<em>Best to poke my head where it doesn't belong, now that I've been told not to...</em>Zephyr thought to himself, sure that wasn't what the man said to him, but it was so easily twisted to be such.<br/><br/>Zephyr walked down the street to the Inn, now having a different reason for heading that way. He now figured that the more wealthy individuals would likely be in there, and while that certainly wasn't better company, they would likely be the one reaping the rewards of those hungry families. He walked in, knowing full well he was out of place with his grey cloak, and grey leather armor with brass studs. That was only accentuated by the fact that he had a pair of swords at his hips, and at least one visible dagger.<br/><br/>(Will let Howling describe what the inside of the Inn looks like.)