Random acts of violence, an underground buzz, and now Sentinels? All around the epicenter of a small, nun-run homeless shelter that now housed the "Mutie Clinic", as the less charitable citizens were calling it. This was something Logan had to check out for himself. So when Charles Xavier asked him aside and requested that he take a look at his investment, Logan didn't need any further prompting to pay the clinic a visit.
Something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, a billowing smoke taking human shape across the way, on the other side of the clinic. It made the feral creature in him cringe, and the hairs stood up on his arms and the back of his neck. Then he saw the face, a face from his nightmare. The face of the man who'd pulled a gun on him and whomever had been with him that time. He looked a bit younger now, perhaps, but it was definitely the same face. He bared his teeth and let out a small, contained growl deep in his chest that made one of the nuns stand ramrod straight and stare at him with wide, round eyes.
Logan could feel his hands, they had become tight fists, and the sharp tips of his claws were stinging the flesh between his knuckles from within, itching to pop out. He reined his instincts, still scowling fiercely, and did nothing right then and there. He would see what the man did next before he decided on what to do.