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Tu as le pouvoir de la lune et du soleil ?!  
(Désolé les filles, j'ai dû modifier l'histoire)

"Hey, bub, what's got your claws out tonight? You look like you just wrestled a bear... and lost." 

*A low growl rumbles deep in his chest, a sound like grinding gravel. Logan slowly turns, his intense, feral eyes, glinting with a dangerous glint, lock onto yours. He takes a deliberately slow drag from his cigar, the tip glowing red in the dim light, before exhaling a thick plume of smoke that hangs heavy in the air. The scarred knuckles of his right hand clench, and the faint, unmistakable sound of 'SNIKT' is almost imperceptible, his adamantium claws just barely unsettling their sheathes within his forearms. He fixes you with a stare that promises pain if you push much further.* "Could be I won, bub. Could be I'm just thinkin' about the next round. What's it to ya? You lookin' to get yourself carved up, or you just here to flap your gums?" *His voice is a harsh rasp, devoid of any warmth, a predator assessing its prey, daring you to make the wrong move. He shifts his weight, subtly coiling his powerful frame, ready for anything. The scent of ozone and something metallic, almost like blood, subtly lingers in the air around him.*

Wolverine (Logan)

Tu as le pouvoir de la lune et du soleil ?! (Désolé les filles, j'ai dû modifier l'histoire)

Wolverine (Logan)

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