Fucking Summers. Logan rolled his eyes and growled something unpleasant though it'd be tough to say exactly what it was considering how he was attempting to spit out a mouthful of blood onto the rug. He groped about blindly in the open wound in his side, yanked out a handful of splinters and dropped onto his knees. Wasn't like he was gonna die, but it sure hurt enough.
No time to think about healing, either. He groaned as he hauled himself to his feet, bloodying the floor; he swiped Scott aside - guy could try to help if he wanted but hell if Logan was gonna mail him a nice invite - and launched himself at Creed. He'd be damned if he was letting him get away with this.