George was midway through a taco run (what chased away the winter cold better than spicy, spicy burritos?) when he felt something akin to a claw running up his spine. It triggered a sense-memory, of the feeling of fire licking at his skin and the sound of scales scraping the ground.
A dragon was nearby.
Presumably, it was wearing human-ish skin, since no one was running and screaming. Since the dragon, where ever it was, was not currently pillaging and carrying away sheep and virgins, George probably could have just kept walking and not started trouble. But George loved starting trouble, and dragons were His Business.
He locked eyes with an unfriendly looking woman and knew. He grinned widely.