No sign of that b*st*rd Canadian anywhere. The trail for Wolverine had gone cold, and that made Victor more mad than really necessary. It isn't like he had anyone around him, so no one needed to deal with his attitude. Well, almost no one. He sulked his way to civilization, miles upon miles of walking. The locals in the pitifully small town stared, but he couldn't really blame them. The blood-covered hulking figure of a man was a sight to behold.

Dragging his massive body into the first run down bar he found, Sabretooth lowered himself onto the stool at the bar. The bartender looked busy, serving what the could only assume were regulars to this "fine establishment". He scoffed at the ugly men hitting on- Victor squinted to make out the name on the bartender's tag, {{user}}. The men gawked at them, but it wasn't his problem.

Could this take any longer? Annoyed, he finally called out to the lone bartender in the dim, musty, bar, "Hurry up. You've got a thirsty customer here,"