pryde_and_grit | Those long, cold November evenings...

Those long, cold November evenings...

Victor snagged his coat and stormed down the halls of the heli-fortress. He'd never tell anyone, but he really hated living up in the air. Having his feet off the ground made him edgy all the time...

Misery had come by to 'see' him before leaving for the SHIELD summit. They were held once a year, all the leaders and their team captains had to attend. Two weeks alone, from Thanksgiving to mid-December. And she always made sure that he knew what he'd be missing. Damn, it been years now and he still shook with need every time she touched him.

So here it was, down time again, and he'd be alone...

...well, mostly alone. "Yo, Runt!" he snarled when he made it to the team housing hall. "Wakey wakey, I need a buddy else I don't get to leave!"

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"You go around takin' sleep surveys or somethin'?"

Logan shook his head, digging his claws into a boulder and continued working his way down.

"Can't sleep sometimes, get to prowling the halls." he shrugged. There wasn't a lot else to listen to but the people actually sleeping (hopefully sleeping), unless he wanted to go spook the guards...

Ah, flat ground. Home sweet home. He tossed his gear into the corner of the lean-to and stretched.

Logan has his own problems sleeping. He drinks a lot, which doesn't really help, but it's something to do, or paces.

Leaving his room only makes him feel more boxed in because he knows he can't leave go anywhere beyond there without hassles, so it's better for him to stay somewhere closed in and at least a little familiar.

"Ever try warm milk?"

"Can you imagine going down to the mess and getting warm milk? You'd have to kill a dozen of the damn recruits just to make the snerking stop..." and it just sounded downright weird. And childish. He remembered drinking warm milk...it had still tasted like milk. Ew.

"Tried that nature sounds thing a coupla times though...too fuckin tame."

"It'd be funny as hell."

Which is the only reason he'd really suggest it for Victor.

"Yeah. Funny." he snorted "Like we need more a that at SHIELD." he reached out for Logan's bag.

"Warm milk. Geeze."

"I know I could use more laughs." Maybe then he wouldn't be so surly.

"Then you ain't been watching the right people." Vic said reasonably. "You go back and watch the fish, or stare at the recruits for a bit and I promise you'll be cracking up." and scaring the hell out of the new kids. Always a plus.

"You going to hunt like that?" Vic was peeling out of his boots and flexing his toes. Easier to hunt when he could feel the ground!

"I got better things ta do then screw with recruits."

Like sleep. Or drink.

Looking down at his own feet he shook his head.

"I'm good."

Logan could stalk easily enough with his boots on, and they gave pretty good traction in a chase.

Hey, Vic understood that not everyone could have clawed feet. Poor Logan. "Sure you do. Those better things healthy?" he asked before loping back to the rocks "Saw a deer trail ways back..."

"Nothin' I do is healthy," Logan replied, swiftly following after Vic. "'Cept sleep, I guess."

"An some of the stuff you eat...you need to start workin on that. Don't wanna get cancer or anything." he laughed.

Oh, fresh trail...

"Right, I'm gonna eat right, stop drinkin' an' join a church."

He shook his head then went quiet, scenting the air and slipping from the bantering into predatory mode.

He couldn't help the snerk at 'church', but outside that, he was padding along as tensely as Logan. He wasn't moving even with him though...no, Vic slipped back to hang off Logan's left shoulder. Guy needed to run a hunt.

And Vic was used to letting the runt give the signals.

Aware of Vic falling back Logan took the lead, picking up the pace and following the scent through the dense brush.

It was easy to slip into the role of the predator and let instincts take over. Thoughts about SHIELD and Mis and everything else left his mind and he focused on the hunt, trailing their pray and living in that moment.

The deer was a late season buck, only a two pointer, but big enough. He had fresh scars along his flanks from fighting, and losing...

Yeah, it could feed them the whole week. Hell, it might even be enough for guests...and with two of them to cart it back to camp nothing else would be able to cut in on their meal. Yeah, this was good.

Very good.

It was meat. Survival of the fittest and all of that.

Closing in on their quarry Logan crouched, claws slowly sliding out on one hand.

Vic semi-crouched, ready to flank it if it bolted. Then, just like that, the wind shifted. He ended up snarling in annoyance.

Shit.

As soon as he felt the wind start to change he lunged, springing at the buck with a roar. Claws drawn back to stab on one hand, the other was reaching and ready to grab the animal.

He was close enough before springing that he should be able to make contact.

For a young buck, the thing was damn qvick. Logan did score, but along the scarred flanks. Nothing lethal.

Vic cut off it's dash to the right, that left it plunging down the path to the lake.

Logan didn't hesitate to give chase. He was after the animal quickly, ducking and dodging any obstacles and pursuing their quarry.

Through brier and thicket, through pine and...reed. The buck was as lost as he could be, and now floundering in the salty marsh edge. The Lake Michigan shore was wonderful for water fowl...but not nearly as kind to spindle legged game.

Thick mud wasn't the best substance to travel through for a guy with lots of excess weight thanks to all the metal he was carrying around, neither.

Still, Logan kept in pursuit, slogging his way towards the deer, aiming for a quick kill and hoping Victor and he would be able to drag it back to shore.

Soon enough the buck floundered, front legs finding a sink hole while his hind legs stayed on 'firmer' ground. The damn thing ended up chinning himself on the ground.

Seeing that Logan probably had this one in hand, Victor slogged back to shore and made a dash for camp. They were going to need rope...

Logan moved in.

"Easy, fella."

With a quick swipe of his claws it was over.

He stood over the buck a moment, taking in the scent of blood, sweat, fur and the wilds around them. Sheathing his claws slowly he reached down, stroking the animal's fur with his bare hand, then grabbed a leg and started trying to haul it back to shore.

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