Logan knew at least fifteen languages, his knowledge of the world was extensive but only because of his nomadic lifestyle and struggle to keep himself busy. Busy meant distraction from his situation or the reality of his life. Not that it was always a bad thing he ran from but he did have a tendency to wander when the moment called for it. It was just in his nature.
When Honour welcomed him Logan instantly felt his heart warm. It wasn't a feeling he got often but from what little time he had spent with this woman he knew he liked her immensely. Women didn't always have that appeal for the feral mutant. He'd been married three times, and had a slew of lovers which had resulted in fathering more children than he could count on both hands (almost all of which were no longer living) but the attraction to Honour felt deeper. Not so much as one would feel when courting someone else, persay, but almost as if on some level they were meant to be near the other. An invisible draw.
"Thanks. Doin' fine so far," Logan replied, and it was true. So far he hadnt really met anyone he hadnt automatically liked. Honour was, by far, his most favorite.
Logan felt more at home in a bar or tavern than just about anyplace else. It was a curse granted to him from his father, a man that died spurned, and he embraced it because it was part of the beast. It always had been, in a way.
"Unless you know someone that's hirin' then probably not. But I appreciate the offer," Logan said gently. He wasn't sure if she needed him, or if he really did need her on some level. He wasn't used to needing anyone, it was a foreign feeling to him.