Gabriel nodded silently, setting his stool back down and leaping over the bar, crouching along it's length to examine the knives. Pulling a few out and running them over his hand lightly, he stood up holding a slim, light fillet knife. Flipping it and holding it by the point, he gestured at Stefan to move aside to give him a clear shot at the door; if whatever came through was unwelcome, it'd sure know about it.

As he stood ready to throw his knife, Gabriel thought briefly - as he did before any battle - of the strange series of events that had led him to this inn. He hadn't forseen this just a year ago; not by a long way. He'd come so far away from his past life, he'd almost forgotten what he'd set out for. Something about a woman...promises...vengeance...never mind. His quest for fire would have to wait.