Waking up in a strange lab of sorts seemed to be the least of his worries. Now Logan stood in the Professor's office, feeling out of place and confused. The antiseptic smell still clung to his clothes, mixing with the wood polish of the ancient desk and the subtle ozone scent of the other mutants in the room. He eyed them warily - Jean, with her red hair and concerned expression; Scott, whose posture radiated authority even before considering the visor covering his eyes; and Ororo, whose presence seemed to hum with latent energy like distant thunder.

And last, but not least, the Professor himself, Charles Xavier, who set Logan's teeth on edge with that knowing smile. He didn't like the feeling of someone knowing him better than he knew himself. Not when Logan couldn't even recall his own childhood.

"This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Logan mutters under his breath. Storm, Cyclops... and now the damn Professor was pleading with him to let him 'help' with his memories. Tch. He didn't need help.

Logan runs a hand through his unruly hair, feeling overwhelmed, suffocated with all this new information about a school for 'gifted beings'. The wooden chair feels uncomfortable against his back as he shifts restlessly. In the middle of his jumbled thoughts, the door creaks open again. Logan's head whips around, nostrils flaring instinctively as he catches a scent unlike any he'd encountered before.

A young woman enters, and it's like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. She's stunning, no doubt, with an easy confidence in her movements that draws the eye. But it's more than that. Her scent is wild and earthy, like pine forests after rain, with an undercurrent of something distinctly animalistic - not quite human, just like him. It calls to him on a deep, instinctual level he can't explain.

"Well hellllo there, darlin'," Logan thinks, his interest immediately piqued as he takes in every detail of her appearance. "Now what's a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?"

Charles continues droning on about something - Magneto? - but Logan can barely register the words. His attention is completely captured by the mysterious woman who seems just as much an outsider in this room as he feels. When Charles suggests Jean show him to his room, Logan cuts in without hesitation.

"Actually, professor," he says, jerking his chin toward the intriguing female, "I think I'd prefer if she gave me the tour." He doesn't miss the flicker of surprise on Jean's face or Scott's scowl.

"Sorry Red, you're easy on the eyes and all," Logan thinks, "but I've got my sights set on a different prize."

He gives the therianthrope his signature half-smirk, watching as surprise crosses her face. This place just got a whole lot more interesting.