Who: Logan and OTA What: Returning after going MIA When: Afternoon Where: The garage Rating: TBD
In truth, he had no idea what the hell had happened. It had been weeks since he had been at the school and other than the last two days he spent getting back he didn't remember anything. The last thing he did remember was talking to Kyla and then heading out for the night to clear his head. After that it was just hazy black.
He'd woken up two days ago in the woods, disoriented and naked. The coppery taste of blood and flesh was still heavy on his pallet. That set a touch of panic within him, who the hell had he hurt? He got up from the cold, snow covered ground and sniffed. It didn't take long to find the carcass of a dear that he'd obviously torn apart. At least that explained the blood. Now he wondered what the hell had sent him into one of his rages.
Logan hadn't had an episode this bad in a long time. His head pounded, the one thing that his healing factor didn't do a damn thing for. He was in the woods, but had no clue where. With a sigh he unsheathed his claws and skinned the deer, needing something to cover himself with. Once he was clothed as well as could be expected he used his senses to try and find his way back to the real world.
Three hours later he found his truck, beat all to hell. Climbing inside he prayed to whatever god that happened to be listening that it would start. There was a heavy sigh of relief when it choked for a moment and then purred to life. As he waited for the truck to heat up he looked through the window at the surrounding terrain. There were signs of a scuffle, that made him even more curious as to what had happened and who the hell he'd been fighting.
He popped the glove box open and grabbed a cigar, pushing in the trucks lighter he started to back out which took him longer than he'd expected. Once on the road he lit the cigar and started towards the mansion, the engine of his truck was making a few questionable noises from the collision with the tree. Once he was back he'd take a look. As he drove Logan tried to pull up any memory from however many days it had been that he was gone. Then that made him wonder just how many days he had lost. Already he could feel his headache amplify.
His mind was reeling as he drove into the gates and directly toward the garage. Once he was parked he reached in the back for some clothes and tossed the animal pelt into the truck bed. Last thing he needed was someone harping on him for wearing a loincloth in front of the kids. With dried blood all over his face, hands and arms he went into the bathroom and turned the shower on hotter than he could stand, nearly scalding him as it beat down on him. But he welcomed it after the blistering cold. The colors of his fingers and toes had told him that even his healing factor had been pushed to the limits fighting frostbite and hypothermia.
As he stood under the hot spray, watching the brownish-red water circle down the drain until eventually becoming clear closed his eyes. How he hoped he hadn't truly hurt anyone. Tipping his head back he got a mouthful of water and swished it around before spitting it out just to get the taste of blood and raw meat out of his mouth. He lingered until the water became cold and got out, hastily drying off and pulled on the clothes he had put on in the truck. Already he felt loads better just being clean.
Logan brushed his teeth and as he looked in the mirror he saw that his fingers that had been purple were now nearly back to their normal hue. The cold made his metal plated bones ache, but as cold as it had been and for how long he was out in it, his joints were tight and sore. Once he was dressed he headed back down to the garage to fix his truck. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep so he wouldn't even try. Hell, it'd be nothing but nightmares anyway.
Once in the garage he popped the hood and looked around before grabbing the tools he would need. What the hell was he going to say if anyone questioned him where he had been.