For all his troubles the guard merely gets a half hearted snarl from the big man leading a big gray horse into the valley, the bounty hunter known as Green Bear sharing his foul mood with everyone. He would but damn the elf Silverleaf who'd given him that nick-name, for a few of the overstaffed guards muttered it upon his appearance. He would, but it was bad form to damn the dead, in particular when he'd come to avenge that particular elf's death.
Leaving Silverleaf's daughter back at that foolish wizardry school she attended, with an oath sworn to carve the beast apart before its black heart stopped beating, he'd come out this way without pause and without much rest and without relent.
Up 'til now, that is.
Guardsmen tend to be picky about warriors who charge their gates, even if they have a perfectly good reason to do so, and so the barbaric ranger entered peaceably; his eyes glaring out from under a young troubled brow.
Scoffing the need for any more equipment than the sword by his side and weaponry and gear at his back, the only thing he needs now is a place to keep the horse while he gets some quick rest before delving into the woods at the crack of dawn. He storms into Harrington's after hitching the brute to a post and looks for a seat. Though the place is crowded, the young man reasons within his mind that sooner or later someone already with a room will probably get kicked out for some fool act of violence or trouble.
Even if it's someone foolish enough to pick a fight with him, a chance he idly wouldn't mind stumbling across. After all, he's already looking for one source of trouble.