One of those in the audience was none other than the Wolverine. He had followed his considerably sensitive nose and rumbling stomach into the kitchen just like everyone else. Unlike the others, however, he wasn't sleepy at all, and he was drinking what was technically his last beer of the night. He didn't have training this morning, and so he'd taken a time out and gone to a bar to think. And by think, he meant raise holy hell and generally make a nuisance of himself until someone tried to pick a fight with him. In fact, he'd had to shower and change out of his bloody, tattered clothes before walking up from the room he kept in one of the outer buildings and into the main house. He was hungry after a full night of... thinking, and all he had in the compact fridge in his room was beer, hence his choice of beverage.
The only good thing about all this was that, due to his hyperactive healing factor, Logan could not get drunk. Ever. No matter how hard he tried to get himself well and truly intoxicated. He knew for a fact this was a very good thing. Nobody wanted a drunken adamantium-clawed feral running around the house. No more inebriated nights for Logan, not since the Solar Flare that changed his life. Of course, that didn't stop him from giving it the old college try.
He'd had a lot on his mind, in his defense. He, the eternal bachelor (albeit not by his choice), now found he had not one, but two kids. A matched pair. A boy and a girl, both feral, both too old to actually raise. Logan had been on his very best behavior ever since he convinced Karr to come back to the Haven, and it was grating on him. That was why last night he'd gone drinking alone, somewhere where he wouldn't run into anybody from the Haven. He needed some alone time. The beast needed to be let out every once in a while, and the longer he denied it, the worse it was when he finally did. That bar last night? He had no doubt he'd single handedly put it out of business. Well, perhaps single-handedly was an exaggeration. He'd actually had plenty of help from most of the other patrons. He hadn't even been the one who started the brawl, but he'd certainly been the one to end it. With prejudice.
In any case, he sat at the end of the counter, the dregs of his last beer forgotten as he made short work of whatever it was Joëlle had put on his plate. He tried not to stare at the very pretty girl. She was probably young enough to be his daughter too, but it was hard not to look at her. The color of her skin reminded him of Serena, who'd been but a few shades lighter than she was. The thought left Logan strangely subdued.
He caught one of the kids eyeing the last of the tomatoes as if trying to think of a way to cheat Joëlle out of it, and he cleared his throat at him. "Dun' even think about it," he muttered in his gravelly voice, and the kid all but yelped and hurried off. Logan watched him go until he disappeared outside the kitchen door before turning back to Joëlle.
"That was delicious. Thank you. Make sure y'eat yours before someone tries ta arm wrestle you fer it."