"Nah. Wasn't me. Well, I guess I did. I mean, not directly, no. They programmed the room to shut down if I got too carried away with the slicin'," he grumbled, but ended up letting a guilty little grin show. "You all right?" he asked as neutrally as he could. "Y'ain't entirely hopeless," he teased, his grin spreading some. "Got some usable moves, I see." His mood was improving, in spite of himself. Or rather, in spite of his feral senses.
He could smell blood. Laura's blood. It made him terribly antsy. The feral side of his brain was freaking out with overprotective instincts from having the scent of the blood of a female of his pack in his brain. His nose and taste buds were picking it up from the air. The instinct to attack any perceived threats to the girl standing across the room from him was so great, he tried to put away his claws and found that he almost couldn't.
Damn. Pity the fool who tries to date her, Logan thought grimly to himself. Great. Now I'm gonna be running around wanting to kick Karr's teeth in every time he's an idjit and wanting to go medieval on any fool sniffin' after m... this little girl. Ha. And they worry about vets eating their damn guns. Try being a vet AND a goddamn feral.
"You wanna take a break, or y'wanna go again? I dun' think anyone else is gonna show today, tell you th'truth. Everyone's got their heads up their... rear ends over this whole stupid split."