"Can't say as I blame ya," Logan replied. "I ain't much fer following the rules myself, and as you can see I don't exactly keep regular sleep hours." He shrugged and smiled at the pretty girl. It wasn't like he was trying to hit on her or anything, really. But she was certainly easy on the eyes, so he was in no rush to end the conversation. "This is a pretty nice place. Of course, there's always a rotten apple or two. But if anyone gives you any trouble, ye just ask fer Logan. Or Wolverine. That's my fighting name. Ya know, fer the team."
After he said it he figured that, being a new arrival, perhaps she didn't know what he meant at all. But then he reasoned that if she wanted to know, she'd ask. She looked like a smart, personable girl. He listened to her stories of home, and snorted at the subtle digs at their American hosts. "Yeah, American's idea of breakfast is heart attack on a plate. Not that I mind it that much, ta be honest. I like to eat," he commented. "I dun' wanna impose or nothing, but I wouldn't mind trying out more of yer country's food. This was amazing."
"Martinique? That where yer from? Sounds like a nice place too. How are things for mutants over there?" he asked mildly, even though he figured they couldn't be so good if this beautiful girl had to move all the way here to be safe.