[Logan came back from the draft at 9PM on the 31st. He was a wreck. His body had been severely depleted from constantly raging to the point where he'd lost the ability to walk. A ravaged body dealing with a disease and adamantium poisoning. It was a miracle he was even alive. The Logan that showed behind House 16, one foot in the chilly pool, did not look like the Logan his friends were commonly used to seeing. He had been weak. Starving. His skin had an unnatural color and so little strength.
He'd been on bedrest for nearly a full day when he finally woke up. He was alone at the time. Just long enough to figure out what had happened. Or what he assumed happened. He left out the window for a long, long walk to think. And smoke. His trip took him straight into the woods, out of interest of avoiding people. In the woods, he eventually released his anger and frustration on the trees. It was fortunate the wolf spirit was not around, because he paid little mind to the destruction he was creating. It was rare he ever felt as helpless as he had during that draft. Frankly, it pissed him off.
But as evening set in, he finally came back. He may not have been good at expressing himself or apologizing, but he always came back eventually. But it was with no fanfare. No checking up on the others. He went home, he found some leftovers in the fridge and a beer, and went back outside to eat on the porch. Cold air or not.]
November 1st, evening
He'd been on bedrest for nearly a full day when he finally woke up. He was alone at the time. Just long enough to figure out what had happened. Or what he assumed happened. He left out the window for a long, long walk to think. And smoke. His trip took him straight into the woods, out of interest of avoiding people. In the woods, he eventually released his anger and frustration on the trees. It was fortunate the wolf spirit was not around, because he paid little mind to the destruction he was creating. It was rare he ever felt as helpless as he had during that draft. Frankly, it pissed him off.
But as evening set in, he finally came back. He may not have been good at expressing himself or apologizing, but he always came back eventually. But it was with no fanfare. No checking up on the others. He went home, he found some leftovers in the fridge and a beer, and went back outside to eat on the porch. Cold air or not.]