Since the town was small he figured that it wasn't too bad of an idea to simply walk through the area and hold his nose in several directions. While probably not the most fruitful approach, he had to scout the area for several factors anyway before he could begin an actual investigation. This way he figured that he might be lucky and simply run into the current problem and get it done before nightfall. Small chance to that happening he knew, but a guy could dream right? And since it was still bright daylight, running at top speed was out of question. In that case he could just as well use the time he had to take and explore the area.
Albeit being more or less familiar to him from growing up here, back than he didn't had to walk on all fours, had different senses and a family to go to. Now he didn't have any place to stay and so he would have to sleep where the opportunity arose. It was rarely cold at this time of the year and his fur had brought him through chilling winter winds in the past - so he wasn't worried about temperature - but he still preferred a bed or a blanket over hard ground. He didn't have food either and since he was basically naked, of course no money. In the case of food this would mean either hunting or stealing. Sleep he would have to in a place relatively safe but close enough to the town's center so he could get anywhere fast enough if necessary. All in all it came down to looking at his "home" from a new angle and so "getting to know" this place was the logical thing to do in his eyes.

When scouting along the edge of town he spotted some white-tailed deer entering a small patch of forest. His stomach growled loudly at precisely that moment. Reflexively he charged for them and caught a young doe by the throat, breaking the neck with the power of his impact and slashing the throat with his teeth at the same time. He let go of the doe's neck and opened its belly near the beginning of the hint legs, the soft flesh putting up the least resistance there. His muzzle reached for the bowel and pulled it out, hastily chopping it with his molars and devouring it together with its contents as fast as possible. When he had gulped the rest of the bowel he reached for the liver, not bothering to pull it out completely, instead just ripping a huge chunk of it out. He placed the chunk before him, held it with its paws and began tearing it into smaller pieces before eating it. When finished with it he reached deeper within the deer's bowels and pulled the heart out, chopping and gulping it within seconds.
When he had finished is belly was so full all he wanted to do was lay down and so he did. Resting his head on his forelegs, lying there on the edge of the forest, prick-eared, the afternoon sun keeping his back warm he let his mind go blank. Amazing what a bit of exercise and food could do to your soul, 'must be the endorphins' he thought.

He may have lain there by his kill for about half an hour when he got up again - feeling a slight weariness in his limbs - and decided to hide the carcass. He grabbed the body on one hint leg and pulled it into the forest. Albeit not big, this patch of green should serve well enough as a hiding place. After pulling it for a few feet into the bush his ears caught movements behind him. When watching back he saw the outline of two coyotes hiding in the bush behind him, obviously eager for him to leave. He did them the favor and visualized how they fell upon the carcass. By thinking about it, he realized that their den might not be too far away and if it was in this patch of green it could work as a potential resting place – if it was too small it just had to be widened. But he would choose such an opportunity only when none other was available.
When he had passed the border of the forest and made a few feet into the direction of the town he noticed several shadows moving on the ground and when looking up spotted crows that descended upon the forest, no doubt looking for the same meal as the coyote pair.

Sneaking through backyards and licking some more blood from his muzzle he contemplated about his current situation. Coming to this town posing as a human had not been an option in his eyes. Arriving human would have allowed him to use the advantages that would have come with it – like a hotel. But he wanted to avoid being recognized at any cost. In his current form, nobody would even draw a connection to him and if he was honest to himself, it was now much easier for him to pass for dog than for human. If necessary it was still possible for him to play the part – for a time at least – but that was the same as lying or acting twenty-four-seven, it was doomed to fail in the end. All these new behaviors he no longer thought about had come to him so naturally over time that he now had to force himself to act the way a human would. But that would in every aspect have been the same as stopping to breathe; it could only work for so long. In the end he was always forced to do it by pure instinct; although "forced" might not have been the right word.
In the months after his first transformation he had always felt as though these new instincts and mannerisms had forced themselves upon him, but in retrospective he realized that they had grown inside him over time. This way they had become such an integral part of his self that it was now very hard for him not to bare his teeth or even snarl when threatening someone. This put him always on edge when talking to humans, since he had to be careful with every move, every sentence. When an angry dog snarled it was normal, but an angry human doing the same thing – with exactly the same sounds a dog would – was borderline weird, to say at least. Not to mention the obvious signs of shapeshifting he did reflexively now: shifting his eyes to canine when happy, growing sharp fangs when threatening someone, letting fur grow when it was too cold or growing claws at the sign of battle. In practically any human dominated place he would attract attention immediately with such behavior. In this particular town here, doing something like that would be about as smart as a twelve pointer deer holding up a neon sign saying "Shoot me" during hunting season. So in his eyes running around all furred-up was the smartest thing to do when tackling the current situation.
He set himself in motion again, at the same time reminding him that he would have to keep an even lower profile until he had the chance to get the rest of the deer's blood from his head. His stomach had obviously been stronger than his brain and so he hadn't thought about how he would look after burying his head deep into the intestines of his meal. There were some open water places around here.

Looked like he didn't need to run to any lake or stream around here, one of the backyards he was sneaking through had a full paddling pool in it and he was able to wash his head in the water and dry himself with one of the towels lying around. When he was done it occurred to him that it must have looked pretty funny from a third person perspective. A "dog" rubbing his head on a towel on the ground, getting all the read off, but probably adding some green to his fur.
The rest of the day was more or less fruitless when it came to the main reason of him being here. He found some hiding places here and there (mostly in some back yards and once behind a small grocery store) but nothing that could help him much.
However, one thing had struck him as weird: he had known several streets and buildings since childhood, but he couldn't remember their names.