By Nighthawk SUMMARY: Wolverine finds something ... er ... someone in the woods.
DISCLAIMER: All X-men and their buddies belong to Marvel. Not me.
TIME PERIOD: Hmmm, sometime before Onslaught, AoA, etc.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a work in progress. I am a busy woman and am trying to write the other parts as soon as possible. But, like a Venus fly trap, you must feed me! Send me feedback if you want to see more ... even if you think this sucks, email me! nighthawk_22_@hotmail.com
RATING: PG-some naughty words.
A lone figure walked through the quiet forest near Jasper, Canada. His bike was stashed in the bushes by the road, twelve miles away. He crept through the underbrush, searching for something he knew had to be there. Suddenly he stood, his search postponed for the moment. Something smelled wrong. Smelled like anger. *SKINT* Metal claws sprang from the spaces between his knuckles. Thoughts raced through his head - he knew someone was there, he could smell 'em. The forest was still, a deathly silence penetrating its leafy canopy; as if it knew something was about to happen. All he heard was the snapping of branches as something flew through the trees and knocked him to the ground. He sprang up again, glancing around wildly for his unseen aggressor.
"GET OUT OF MY FOREST!" The voice came from nowhere and yet everywhere. He still couldn't tell where his assailant was. Wait, there! A smell unlike any other assaulted his nostrils. Claws still bared, the mutant known as Wolverine raced through the woodland, following what his heightened sense of smell told him.
He's around here somewhere, somewhere close. The place stinks of man. He stopped, sniffing the air. Pausing, he breathed in the scent of the region around him. Without glancing up, he leapt up into the branches of the nearest tree and felt his claws nick something soft. A quiet gasp assured him of his target. He launched himself fully into the large oak and searched it frantically for his opponent. A menacing growl escaped his lips as he realized the timber was empty. He stood on the high limb and gazed about into the wooded area.
Where'd the bastard get to now?
"LEAVE!" The wild shout echoed off the forest around him as a hatchet flew from between the trees to bury itself in his shoulder. The force powering the thrown weapon was enough to send him plunging to the ground below. As his head hit the ground, his claws instantly retracted and his vision wavered. He could barely make out the shape of someone standing above him. At once he felt himself being lifted from the ground and thrust against the thick trunk of a nearby tree, the bloodied hatchet pulled from his flesh and pressed to his hallow of his neck. His healing factor instantly took over, closing his wound and clearing his eyesight. Wolverine then found himself staring into the eyes of the most beautiful woman he had seen -- even Jean paled before the splendor of this femme fatal. Everything about her sang of majestic grace and beauty, from her long black hair, to her olive skin, to her strong hands - hands, that were currently holding a very sharp blade and threatening to slit his throat.
"Who are you and what are you doing in my forest?" Her voice was as cold as ice.
"Name's Wolverine, that's none of yer damn business why I'm here and darlin', lighten up on the pocket knife." Molten black eyes mutated into liquid night. He felt the hatchet press closer, slicing his skin slightly, drawing a few drops of blood. Immediately his healing factor closed the laceration.
"Listen here, Wolverine," she spit the name out like a curse, "like hell it is none my business! You are on my land!" As she stared into his hard eyes, a low growl sounded from his throat. Abruptly she found herself crushed against the tree and Wolverine pressing her hatchet to her neck. He sneered down at her defiant face.
"Now you listen darlin'! I'm getten' real tired of this game damn fast. I know you're a mutant, ya have ta be. Now you're comin' with me. Ya can go real peaceful like, or we can do it the hard way. Yer choice darlin'."
"Go to hell."
"Fine then, no loss ta me." The last thing she saw was the blunt end of her hatchet coming towards her head before she fell into the darkness.
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