[color=silver]"Duly noted, Mr. Giligan."[/color] The stranger says with a slightly reluctant tone. 

The dwarf barkeep's warning and advice was just another reminder that he was no longer in Arizona. The star he so proudly displayed on his breastplate was nothing more than a little decorative piece to his armor to folk here. Operating in new territory was always difficult, never was easy to begin with, and he doesn't like to admit that he was wrong...but he knew Giligan was spitting facts. He can't just go play the lawman and be bullheaded about it without attracting the wrong kind of attention and, unlike Arizona, there weren't any other rangers he can call to if things go sideways. If he kept on this path, it'll only lead him to a shallow unmarked grave somewhere in Paladros. Worse, get Giligan's daughter killed in the process.

It was around this time that he noticed that the wildling had stuck her head into the pile of clothes. The girl's action caused one of the stranger's unseen eyebrows to rise up in confusion. [color=silver][i]What in the 9 hells was the girl doing?[/i][/color] he thought to himself just as Fera moved away from the pile of clothes and took tentative sniffs with her nose up in the air. [color=silver]"Well, I'll be damned. Girl's part bloodhound."[/color] He says incredulously.