The familiar scent he'd passed off as recollection.

The punch snaps his head to the side, and he reacts before he looks back at the culprit, grabbing for a wrist and slamming the offending hand down on the bar with considerable force. The barkeep skitters backwards.

"Guess I'm just stubborn like that. First punch is free, bub. Second is gonna cost ya."

He cracks his neck back into position, and downs another shot with his free hand. Not deigning to give this loser any more attention than necessary. Why the hell can he still smell Raven?