This was not the same self loathing, wolf hating, lycan that left the tavern all those years ago. No, he had come to terms with his 'condition'. Embraced it even. Now he and the beast were as one. (He had worse demons to worry about after all.)
The wolf's supernatural senses kept him alert to everything as or it before it happened. The dynamite did not go unnoticed. 

He was fast for his size, dodging the fire ball at the last moment with a twist and side step, this movement also put him close to a nearby confused and frightened patron who was simply here for a meal. Julian had already interrupted the poor man once before.

Nonchalantly, Clayton pulls a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and takes one in his lips before returning his stash to where it came from. Speaking around it he scoffs.

 "Think ya can get a bit closer this time? I wanna light my cigarette."