Drake was in for the shock of his life, after all of these years thinking he was the last of his clan. The effects of this discovery would shatter the man he had been for the last several decades, most likely. But that moment was not yet upon him. He stopped in his tracks, sensing that presence again. A couple of people started from the abruptness of his movement, or lack of it thereof. He went from walking normally to being still as a statue. He raised his head a little, and a long forked tongue whipped out of his mouth to taste the air, making a few passersby gasp. One giggled nervously and commented it must be part of the shows to come. Drake ignored them all.
There were a few unfamiliar scents, but all human. Whatever else he smelled was making him become agitated, but he couldn't place it. All he caught in the air was his own scent, although it seemed stronger than usual. Had he forgotten to shower the last few days? It was... different somehow. He would have to watch his diet in the coming days, if it was messing with his body chemistry in any way. The thought that the similar yet different smell he was tasting in the air might be from a survivor of his old clan never even occurred to him. That option had died, as far as he was concerned. He should know. He had buried the lot of them with his own hands.
His head whipped to one side, then the other, at inhuman speed. Not seeing anything, Drake sped forward and made a sharp right the moment he was past the nearest tent.