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The Welcoming of the Wolf...(The Doctor)
"Place smells funny..." Logan breathed to himself as he took another smell of the air. It smelled like any other city he had been to, yet there was something underneath that the Wolverine had picked up on. He didn't know quite what it could be, as he had never smelled anything like it before, but he wasn't sure if he liked it.
The motorcycle he was currently perched upon was idling in park, the kickstand pressed firmly against the concrete as the short mutant's blue eyes swept the busy, bustling metropolis.
"Sure ain't Canada either," Logan said to himself with dismay. How he had gotten off of the path he wasn't entirely sure. He knew those snow covered woodland paths like the back of his hand, he had travelled to his cabin many times before. Probably even more times than years he'd been alive, and that was a good amount of time.
Still, he came to the conclusion that he must've blacked out while riding. But this city made no sense and perhaps that was what was throwing the feral mutant.
He wondered where he had ended up. Most cities had some kind of town loyalty, a name that was plastered all over to notify someone of their specific amount of pride. He saw none of that here, that or he was missing it completely. His eyes were sharper than most, though, so missing something that vital was almost a slap in the face to his skills.
Nonetheless it seemed to be evading him, which he wasn't too fond of.
The people seemed normal enough and nobody seemed to be paying him any attention, which was alright with Logan. He made sure to keep a straight face, to act like he belonged here and not that he had randomly appeared. Vulnerability wasn't a trait the Wolverine liked to let on that he felt. He was better than that.
Pulling the kickstand up, Logan pushed the bike's gear into drive and he coasted down the streets and ended up near what seemed to be a vast park in the center of town. It was there the Wolverine pulled the bike into an empty slot for parking, killed the engine and threw the kickstand down once again with a boot.
The motorcycle he was currently perched upon was idling in park, the kickstand pressed firmly against the concrete as the short mutant's blue eyes swept the busy, bustling metropolis.
"Sure ain't Canada either," Logan said to himself with dismay. How he had gotten off of the path he wasn't entirely sure. He knew those snow covered woodland paths like the back of his hand, he had travelled to his cabin many times before. Probably even more times than years he'd been alive, and that was a good amount of time.
Still, he came to the conclusion that he must've blacked out while riding. But this city made no sense and perhaps that was what was throwing the feral mutant.
He wondered where he had ended up. Most cities had some kind of town loyalty, a name that was plastered all over to notify someone of their specific amount of pride. He saw none of that here, that or he was missing it completely. His eyes were sharper than most, though, so missing something that vital was almost a slap in the face to his skills.
Nonetheless it seemed to be evading him, which he wasn't too fond of.
The people seemed normal enough and nobody seemed to be paying him any attention, which was alright with Logan. He made sure to keep a straight face, to act like he belonged here and not that he had randomly appeared. Vulnerability wasn't a trait the Wolverine liked to let on that he felt. He was better than that.
Pulling the kickstand up, Logan pushed the bike's gear into drive and he coasted down the streets and ended up near what seemed to be a vast park in the center of town. It was there the Wolverine pulled the bike into an empty slot for parking, killed the engine and threw the kickstand down once again with a boot.