“Gloves and socks.” She interrupted the conversation, handing the garments over to Rogue. “There are pajamas and clothes in your room. Towels in the bath.” Glancing at Logan she gave a bashful smile. “I actually found a top that is not black.” That was a miracle in and of its self. Though it was still very dark in color. As were nearly all her clothes that she would soon not be able to wear.
Though she had heard some of the conversation on her journey down the hall she would not say anything. It was not her business. Knowing anything they spoke of was an unfortunate side effect of being what she is.
“You will spoil that dog to death, old man.” She muttered as she picked up her empty plate and glass. There was only one reason Gypsy had remained curled at his feet. Logan was feeding her scraps.