"Why not?" Drake countered without missing a beat, taking a sip from his glass. He shrugged those cannonball shoulders and swished his beer in his mouth for a moment. "Don't got to hide what I am, for one thing. B'sides, I got my reasons."
The dragon was used to people not getting that being a grouch wasn't the same as being unhappy, much less depressed. Drake could win the lottery and break the bank, and he'd still not crack a smile. He'd be pleased as punch, but he'd still see no use in doing all that ridiculous crap people did like hooting and hollering like idiots or go around grinning like fools at all and sundry. No, sir. Not Drake. To him, neutral and deadpan was his happy. He was neutral when he was content. Otherwise, he was pissed, and nobody was happy.
He was well aware he was a difficult man. He just didn't care. Which was an awful way to be, but there you had it. However, as standoffish as he might seem, this was Drake being the friendliest he'd been since before his family had been killed. It seemed like another life, but Drake remembered actually having such things as friends once. Recalling some of the social niceties was yet a process. He did manage to recall some, like showing an interest, for instance.
"How about you? You been here all along? See, to me that's the strange thing. Why stay in one place all this time?"