Beck looked up as a low, rolling thunder resounded throughout Falkreath. People didn't take much heed, however, until the light sprinkle turned into a rain. He didn't want to have to ring his clothes out, later, so he headed for the nearest building; the general store.
"Sorry," A note was posted and stuck to the door with an iron dagger. "I'm currently out of stock on most wares." Beck wasn't there to buy, though and so he tried to open the door. It wouldn't budge, having been locked up tight. What luck he seemed to be having lately. The ex-guard sighed heavily, looking around at the different buildings.
He didn't expect a stranger to let him barge in and take shelter in their home, so he walked quickly to the only place he knew that was available to enter at all times: the inn.
He stayed on the porch for a moment to let the excess water run off of him, before he took off his helm and clipped it to his belt, hair having been soaked by the rain despite the headgear. There was no point in waiting it if it couldn't even keep the rain out.
He entered silently, closing the door behind him with a quiet click, before sauntering up to the bar. It there was any poor sod that looked like he needed a good meal and a bottle of mead in this inn, it was probably him, with a few exceptions that looked even more fatigued than he.
"You look tired, friend." Said the innkeeper, wiping down the counter.
"Indeed." He mumbled numbly, placing his hands on the table. "I could use a flagon of mead, if you will." He gave a weak smile towards the barkeep and placing a little more than the needed amount on the table.
He stepped out of the way for the new woman, raising an eyebrow at the sheer amount she'd ordered. Well, family's family. He wasn't going to question it.