Tristan would be able to recognise the words spoken by the wolf as draconic in nature, but as to what the words mean is lost on the dragonslayer. Understanding what a dragon speaks is not particularly important to those that hunt them, though this is no excuse for Tristan; he would learn it if he were to be taught, but dragons typically are not eager to share their secrets with those that kill them.
The vulpine would lead the others through to the main road, a wide highway meant for much traffic in and out of the capital, with a straight sprint all the way to the great gatehouse that is one of the cities entrances. As the party would rush along toward the gatehouses, bodies could be seen, murdered and torn apart by the vile demons. Men. Women. Such creatures care not for who their victims are, only that they die, and die screaming. Tristan keeps his eyes on the prize of freedom in the wilderness beyond the city walls, where they would have to contend with the beasts of the land instead of those of damnation.
To finally pass the gates, worrying though it is to see defensive lines stand unmanned, provides much relief to be out, away from the chaos. Of course, out where and away from the stench of decay within the walls, Tristan's own taint would now be much easier to detect. In this way, Tristan distances himself from the others, scanning his surroundings to find the dragon that is his target.