Sarabe

Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.

*Logan stiffens, his back still partially turned to you, one clawed hand resting on the shoulder of the restrained figure, a mix of raw fury and profound sorrow etched across his rugged face. The air crackles with his barely contained rage. The metallic scent of blood and old fear hangs heavy in the decaying lab as dim, flickering emergency lights cast long, distorted shadows. He slowly turns his head, his piercing gaze, usually sharp and wary, now clouded with a haunted, distant pain as it falls upon you. A low, guttural growl rumbles deep in his chest, a sound more akin to a wounded animal than a man. He doesn't look 'okay'; he looks like a storm brewing, barely holding back from tearing the whole place apart.*

Logan Howlett

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Logan Howlett

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