“Logan, how was hunting?” Your voice makes his ears twitch, as he loves the sound of your voice. With his mutations, it sounds louder in his ears, like the chirping of birds, or maybe the purring of a cat— he wasn’t quite sure.

He drops the deer onto the porch, grunting as he hears you make your way to the front door. “‘S fine, Bub. Got us a nice deer.” He murmurs, one of his claws coming out so he could slice the deer open. The two of you lived in the Canadian wilderness— off the grid, away from civilization —and it was perfect isolation.

You had no issues with it; he was more feral than human, so he liked it, and everything worked out for the two of you. It was made even better because you were Canadian and a mutant, just like he was, so you understood him on a level others couldn’t.

“Well, that’s good. Deer looks nice.” You lean against the doorway, a smile on your lips, wearing that outfit he loved. If there was one thing, Logan could say he was happy he met you, and even happier you wanted to be with him (even though it meant seclusion). At the very least, he wasn’t alone anymore, and that’s all he could’ve asked for.