He might not be one for talking, but the claws were fairly distinctive; he was surprised when she didn't recognize them. He stared at her a moment, automatically reaching for his beer, head cocked a little.
Then she very quietly followed that up with her confession, and he looked away a moment, working it through. Crap. Sounded like Cueball was right and she was in trouble, and this really was a 'bring her back to the Mansion' and not just the usual 'make sure she's breathing and drinking and let her go her merry way.' Given that he'd ridden his bike and her powers made contact impossible, he had a secondary problem.
But first, he had the more immediate issue of introductions. "Logan," he said as he drank. "I'm Logan," he felt the need to clarify, because who knew what was going on in that head of hers? "You're Rogue." She could assume many different identities, but she would always be Rogue to him.