It wasn't just the loss of his powers, which was disconcerting and upsetting in and of itself, but he felt....sick. Very sick. He didn't know the first thing about the adamantium that had been grafted to his bones, much less that he had been picked as a test subject because of his impressive healing factor. Without powers, without that, the very substance coating his bones was slowly poisoning him. Normally, he wouldn't have given a shit about helping people out here, but the (albeit small) logical part of his brain knew that he'd have to work with the others if there was any hope of getting out and staying alive.
Going off on his own probably wasn't advised, but he thought more ground could be covered that way and, honestly, he didn't really know any of the others or trust them. He heard something up ahead though, and curiosity really killed the damned (sabertoothed) cat. He turned a corner and saw a clown. Or, the back of one. It was advancing towards a girl, and he wasn't sure whether or not she actually saw it. It was holding a nasty looking pick though, and slowly raising it as it got closer.
Powers or no, it only took a few seconds for Sabretooth to close the gap, jumping on the thing from behind. It was a big clown, one that wavered a bit against his weight but didn't fall. Instead, it started trying to turn and hit at Sabretooth. He opted to bite into where its shoulder met its neck. Not as effective without fangs, but that didn't seem to stop him from actually tearing a chunk of flesh away.