He hadn't seen anyone or anything for miles. All he wanted was a place to sleep for the night and maybe some food, beer. Then he'd be on his merry way. He'd been driving for so long he had no clue where the hell he was. But the moment what looked to be a hunting lodge came into view he pulled into the dirt parking lot and shut the truck off. Licking his lips he parked his beaten up truck and rubbed his hands over his face before stepping out of the cab. With his hands slung in his pockets he headed toward the door, fetching a cigar from his pocket.
Making his way up the steps he puffed around the cigar, as he lit it, enjoying the taste as it rolled across his tongue, nothing was better than that first puff off a hand rolled Cuban. Pocketing his lighter he opened the door and stepped inside. Logan raised a brow as he looked around, sniffed slightly, noting really off about the place. He saw a girl over near a board and cleared his throat.