NOTES: I'm taking a hiatus from my other series, White to explore other areas of interest. This one is essentially an adventure piece with the supernatural as its backdrop. It doesn't have anything to do with my working timeline and as you will see, I've deviated from my usual portrayal of Emma Frost here. The incident of Logan fighting the token came from Wolverine issue #94. My gratitude to Mirage and Jelpy for helping look over this. Feedback is demanded.

It happened.

It happened and nobody knew it happened.

It happened, a matter of several yards away from the nearest individual. And nobody knew it happened.

Until Paige screamed.

It shattered the serene silence of the school compound like nothing else would. Back-pedalling on the bed, she hit the floor hard. She did not stop kicking until her back slammed against the wall.

The response - the door crashed opened. Angelo and Everett, inhabitants of the nearest room came running headlong. And stopped.

The rest of the students came crowding in, along with the two headmasters. Firmly, Sean pushed them aside and was greeted with the scene that nobody knew had happened.

"Oh my God."

Jubilee's bed was no longer there. In its wake, the mattress had been torn apart by what seemed like a pair of gigantic shears. The sponge entrails bulged out in corkscrew shapes, torn and distended beyond recognition. The wires - twisted out of shape, curled like ragged ribs over the corpse of the mattress, as if some great animal had been feeding over the carcass. Scattered sunlight filtered through the tears on the bed sheet hung up against the window. It resembled the torn wing of a gigantic bird, with blood smeared over its white surface.

Whose blood was it?

They had to spend several gruesome moments looking through the debris, stepping gingerly before concluding that Jubilee was gone from the room. But they did not know if the blood had been hers.

Who had done this? Sean swivelled towards Paige, who had been staring blankly while the others searched.

"Wake up, lass! Tell us, did ye see or hear anything last night?" He accentuated his every word with a shake of Paige's shoulders. Her blue eyes snapped back into reality. She stared at him and slowly, shook her head.

Sean was not satisfied. "Think harder. This cannae be done without a noise, what did ye hear?"

"Sean -" Emma's troubled voice rang out, "- look at her neck."

He tilted the teenager's chin upwards, and saw a thin red incision that stretched from one side of her neck to the other. It had been made with clinical precision. A quarter of an inch deeper and it would have cut into her jugular vein. Already the act of lifting up her head has caused the wound to bleed afresh. Paige might not have been able to wake up to find Jubilee missing at all.

Beneath his hands, Sean felt her muscles go slack. He looked up and saw Paige's eyes roll up as she collapsed into his arms.

He angled her forward fearfully, reaching out immediately to feel her pulse. Emma knelt down at his side, her hand at Paige's temple.

"She's suffering from shock. And some foreign substance that's fogging up her mind. Something the intruder had given her while he - they carried out the attack. How the hell did they manage to evade the security system?" Her tone was uniform, only her word use broke through that veneer of composure to betray the anxiety she felt.

"Mr Cassidy - what is this?"

Everett was standing near the ledger of books at the opposite end of the room, his eyes darting for someone to confirm what he had seen.

Passing Paige over the Emma, Sean walked forward. It was on the underside of the plank. It was smeared in red, the wood gleaming wetly still. A series of scratches, set almost like a voodoo sign, but not quite like, was gouged into the surface. The entire pattern was then splashed with a generous quantity of blood as if sealing a pact, or aiding in some quickening. Already, the liquid was showing signs of coagulation, which meant that the abduction happened not too long ago.

Angelo pointed in the direction of his room fearfully, "I think I saw that carved in my room just now."

Sean turned to entire body of the students or what was left of it as he tried to keep the authority in his voice firm.

"The rest of ye - go search the grounds and see if ye can find any traces of the intruders."

"No," Emma interposed. "Whatever they are, they might be still prowling around." I saw the same blood signature on my dressing table when I was woken up by Paige, she told him mentally. It was a very good reason for not to let the kids out of their sight.

Everyone looked to the window in unison. It was a dreary winter day, the bank of trees on the escarpment of the mountain plateau behind the compound, covered thickly like a smothering blanket of death. There was no birdsong, it was as if they were preternaturally silent by the ominous presence of a supernatural power. If the assailants were still around, man or animal, they would definitely be within those trees several hundred yards away.

Like a noose suddenly drawn tight, everyone moved closer towards each other.

They had sequestered themselves in the computer room, with the steel door double-locked from within while the call for help was sent to the X-Men. A med-kit was the only thing that was stopping Paige's bleeding for the moment. From that vantage, they could see the entire compound through the security cameras strategically placed everywhere. Through the accentuated grey scale of the screen, all was deathly quiet, not a movement throughout.

It was usual for a dark winter day. But what was not usual was when the Blackbird landed and found a school strangely devoid of life. The few X-Men sent for the mission proceeded warily from the landing ramp. Wolverine was the first to descend, his nostrils flared in the biting cold air as he sniffed for alien scent. The twenty-minute trip did little to assuage his nerves when he heard Sean's admission that it was Jubilee who was abducted.

He stopped short of the main door, his eyes roving around the compound, "Somethin' was here."

Psylocke followed close behind, a lithe figure whose movements were undiminished by the thermal winter suit she had put on over her costume. No sense exposing herself unnecessarily for this particular mission, she had decided. Lastly came Gambit, twirling his bo staff lightly. He was engrossed in blowing smoke rings from the remains of a cigarette.

Extinguishing the butt with his heel, Remy casually lighted another with the kinetic ignition of his fingertip. "Where? I don see anythin'."

"In the air, y'can smell the scent like some territorial markin'."

They were jolted by something sounding very much like the loud grinding sound of a millstone. It was the main doors being cracked open by an inch. In the silent expense of that dreary morning, every small noise was magnified with a preternatural intensity. Sean's red-thatched head ushered them in with a swift nod. They stepped into the building proper and surveyed its familiar surroundings.

All three of them had made visits to the school on one occasion or another. Maybe it was the season but this morning, it seemed as if the whitewashed walls had suddenly turned very brittle in the cold dim light. As if something had pierced through the stronghold of the school and had indelibly violated its sanctity. Upon entering, Psylocke had done an immediate scan of the building. She found the greatest concentration of mental activity in the computer room, where all the students had cloistered themselves in. The rest of the place - every other room was vacant, places of inhabitation where the lack of human consciousness told disturbingly of things gone wrong.

"What is this all about? How the hell did yer both let Jubilee be snitched off durin' the night?" Wolverine walked up to the two headmasters immediately. Never mind that he just about reached Emma's shoulder, his anger more than made for his diminutive height as he stared down the two headmasters. Emma had been waiting in the foyer for their arrival. Her lips thinned perceptibly at the short man's outburst.

Sean sighed and said, "I think ye all better look at this."

They made their way to Jubilee's room again, their breaths coming out in clouds of frost. The heater was turned off, the warmth had long since fled the place. Upon entering, Logan turned around and growled at Gambit. "Stub the cig, Cajun. I need my sense of smell here."

Betsy walked forward to kneel down and examine the mattress. "And nobody heard anything?"

"Paige was the first to find out. She was Jubilee's roommate. Em says they probably gave 'er something to inhale while they carried out their attack."

Betsy fingered at the remains of the mattress. "Because this wasn't cut by a sharp instrument. You can see the jagged edges especially when the tool in question came into contact with harder material, like the springs." She lifted one of them where they could see that the edge was broken, slanted awry as if snapped off by great strength. "Brute force was used here. A sacrifice of finesse means that they must forego stealth. Are you sure - "

"Save yer breath, darlin'," Wolverine said, his nostrils drinking the air. "I smell traces of a gas everywhere. They were doped, not just the Guthrie kid. She's sufferin' fr'm the side-effects because she's got the strongest dose, bein' so near the show¡¦"

Abruptly, he coughed and clapped his hand against his nose. Everyone looked at him in surprise. "No, it ain't no sort of gas. There's somethin' sweet to it, like incense-smoke or sandalwood, except it didn't come from any plant¡¦some kind of animal musk¡¦ It's the bloody scent I caught before, just magnified a hundred times."

Betsy frowned as she took a significant breath, "Now that you mention it. Yes. It's - very insidious though. Very cleverly done. The difference is as slight as the smell of say, the summer and autumn air. And our noses become numbed to it quickly. There - " She took another deep breath. " - it's gone now."

She looked at Logan, taking the opportunity to clear things up. "You can't blame Sean and Emma. They would never have found out in time."

Logan grunted but Emma cut in sharply. She certainly did not need anyone to redress her actions, especially over something that clearly called for an absolution of responsibility on her part.

"You mentioned animal musk, I suppose you're referring to pheromones?"

Logan gave a small tight bark. "That's matin' behaviour. And the scent is only detectable to animals of the same species. This -" he gestured at the room, "is enough to knock an elephant off its feet. And I ain't heard of an animal that dopes its prey to sleep before doin' away with them."

"Maybe they brought along their special home-made concoction to throw someone like you off their track." Emma pointed out unctuously.

Logan glared at her as she returned his stare for stare.

"Is there any way ye ken trace their whereaboots using the scent?" Sean broke in.

Logan narrowed his eyes and looked at Sean. "Hate ta burst yer bubble. But chances are, there's only one of whatever's involved. Th whole thin' done too cleanly. Too neat."

"A single intruder cannae pull this off, Logan. Emma has the entire place surrounded by state of the art defence systems - "

"Wipe the disbelief off yer faces, Horatios," he scowled, "There're things that wouldn't think twice 'bout eatin' you, me and yer precious security field fer breakfast."

"What is dis?" Remy pointed to the bloody sign that Ev had found, waiting expectantly for someone to explain to him. His blank expression was carefully presented to remind the rest of their task. "If it was some kind o' beast, it seems to have a taste for art too."

Since its initial discovery, the blood had dried rapidly in the cold, dry air. It was now a rusty red colour. The wood had been stained permanently, no amount of scrubbing or cleaning was going to remove it.

Emma spoke up with every intention to make light of the whole affair. If the X-Men thought they could intimidate her with their expertise, they were mistaken. Especially that savage brute everyone happily took for a human being.

"I believe you all should know what that means. The kidnapper is most likely an acquaintance of yours, someone Jubilation has offended when she was with you. None of our enemies would display such¡¦ appalling lack of taste."

Are ye daft, woman? Sean demanded of Emma mentally. She ignored him totally. He tried to smooth ruffled feathers. "We found several more of these in the other rooms. They seemed to be a kind of warning sign."

All together, fifteen distinctive marks like the one in Jubilee's room were found all over the compound, all of them in places that the students frequented in their everyday activities. The kitchen, the bathrooms - smeared ingeniously on the opposite wall where they would be reflected in the sink mirror, the library, the study rooms, the lounge, and the most impressive - the courtyard with its human-sized disc-shape scratches on the concrete floor. The edges of the red pool had coagulated into a caked circle, the centre however was still steeped with swirling blood.

It was plainly a display of power. Emma snorted inwardly even as Logan pointed out the obvious. Play psychological warfare with your victims. Give them adequate examples what you can do - if you ever do it. Provide vague clues and then let them stew over the reason for your restraint.

Even if it wasn't the oldest trick in the book, it came near. Ambiguity of intention was one of the greatest control one could possess over the weak. Use it well and one did not even need to lift a finger to reduce a sentient being into a wreak of nerves. There were many times in the past, when she had been subjected to the treatment and had turned around to practice it on others, usually on the same people who thought they could get the better of her.

It brought Emma a measure of comfort to know that they could attribute a sense of logic behind the method, even if the signs led to nowhere. She had every confidence that whatever they were dealing with was simply an enemy harbouring some old grudge.

But apparently, Logan read something into the pattern that she did not. He stopped at the last signature, the one in the courtyard, his brow knitting furiously.

"It's leadin' us in a circle." He looked up to Sean's look of bewilderment and retorted, "not that kind of circle!"

True enough, there was a visible pattern in the location of the patterns. Mentally connecting the links made a circular spiral that looped towards the centre - Jubilee's room.

"So? That was the place Jubilee was kidnapped, naturally the pattern would be leading there," Emma demanded as they strode back to the room.

"Redundancy systems are created by people who fear failure. Whatever did this didn't have that problem." Logan answered back tightly, his entire body language teetering on the edge of breakdown. Damn whatever that did this! Why did it have to be Jubilee?

He began removing objects from their places, looking for something only he alone seemed sure of finding. Methodically, he dissected the room, instructing others to do the same, starting with the objects on the tables, then the closets. Finally, all the obvious places were exhausted.

"This is ridiculous," Emma threw down a stack of books. "We should be finding constructive ways to approach the problem rather than depend on some primitive intuition to remedy the situation."

Logan glowered at her. "I've been takin' yer snide remarks ever since we've set down. You had the guardianship of Jubilee and you failed it. Shut yer gap, Frost, or I'll shut it fer yer."

"If it weren't for your pampering, Jubilee wouldn't be so obstinate learning her lessons. She might have escaped last night's attack if she wasn't so busy reiterating her exploits with the X-Men while failing every graded assignment. You've allowed her to play clown, fostering her self-complacency. Why does she need the training? After all, she can always depend on the X-Men to save her. Well - this time she'll find that she is wrong! The good thing is, she might not have to live long to regret it."

The skein of tolerance Logan had been maintaining snapped. He swung half his body around, an inarticulate sound issuing from his throat. Instinctively, he flexed his right arm flexed to bring claws out. They slid out smoothly as he straightened the joint, preparing a swipe that would cover the distance between them and land the jagged tips squarely into her smug face.

His split-second change of expression gave Emma ample warning. She braced herself to fall back immediately. The skin on her face pulled taunt as she readied a mental attack. Then he stopped.

His attention was riveted to something he saw along the bottom edge of the dismembered mattress. With a heave, Logan pulled it off the bed.

A deep hiss whistled through his lungs as the rest came forward to see what he had found.

They found the source for the blood signatures - it was a bird, a raven to be specific. It was shrivelled up, massive forces having wrung every drop of blood from its body to be daubed over the fifteen various signs all over the compound. In a mystical way, it would explain why the birdsong was silenced. When the predator of the natural world was killed off in such a callous manner, the prey kept a mournful wake.

The dark wings were dislocated by the weight of the mattress above it. The bird's chest was perforated, several tiny ribs showing through the feathers, as if a blunt object had been driven through and twisted several times in a circular fashion to enlarge the hole. Or - as if something had burst out.

This microcosmic re-enactment of mutilation they had seen previously on the mattress was hard to miss. But Logan's intake of breath seemed to find more significance in the ritualised display. With a silence even more fearful than his usual outbursts, he elbowed everyone aside as he stormed out of the room.

Which was why he was not around to observe another interesting incident.

The bird's neck laid at an unnatural angle alongside its body. The weight of the mattress would have broken it, even if the assailant had not done that at the beginning. The half-opened beak was leaking greenish bile while the grey tongue lolled from the corner like the end of a decomposing worm.

Emma had refused to entertain Wolverine's departure with even a glance. She kept her eyes fixed at the blood-splattered bed sheet. That was when something moved in her peripheral vision.

She turned around fully. Her face paled, the blood drained away by the sudden contraction of her heart as she saw the dismembered animal raised its head up by an inch, and survey her with a pair of dead dull eyes. It blinked once at her, an act that somehow amassed the weight of more immeasurable intelligence and motive than any living thing could muster. Then as if completing the mission it was entrusted with, it rested its head on the bed board once again; the light of sentience fleeing its eyes.

Emma gave her head a jerk. When her eyes returned to the carcass, it was lying there motionless, its neck twisted at a ninety-degree angle, perpendicular against its body like before.

No one noticed, their gazes were directed at Wolverine's abrupt exit.

Logan headed directly for the Blackbird. The steel gangplank rattled with his compact weight as he took the stairs two steps at the time.

Several months ago, he had made a trip to the school on Jubilee's request. Not even halfway through a training session, he had driven the kids out of the biosphere. He didn't give any sort of explanation, he didn't need to. One look at his face and every student knew it wasn't a drill. That very night he crept into the biosphere and began stalking the creature that had lurked there for months without anyone's knowledge.

Needless to say, he won that particular battle. But it wasn't easy. It wasn't alive and it wasn't dead. It was a spirit, a supernatural entity that had decided to take up residence in the school. As far as Logan knew, it hadn't raise a hand against any of the students before he came. But he dared not take chances. He drove the entity away, but not before it permeated his entire being, steeping him in a bone-deep chill that could only find source from the grave. Sometimes, in the dead hours of a moonless night, he could still feel that spectral presence within the ache of his bones.

One reason for his fast retreat just now was to cover up the trembling in his limbs. And this time, all it took was for him to see the aftermath of this, this - thing's handiwork.

He shook his head furiously and bent down to retrieved a canvas knapsack from the bottom most drawer in the store room. Useless to give himself the willies right now. Que sera sera. But why did it have to be Jubilee again? When he remembered all the times they had adventured together, Logan began to feel regret. It was an emotion that unsettled him entirely. He had led a long life. And he knew he'd never have survived till today if he hadn't learn one of the most basic principles to his singular existence - never do anything you'll regret later, because when you do, you'd spend centuries paying for what others paid in decades.

He drew a deep breath, rammed the last packet of freeze-dried food in and began searching around for the spare set of clothing he had lying around. Jubilee's life and the tribulations she had gone through, was a tiny fraction of what Logan had suffered himself. But wherever she might be now, the pain she was suffering - suddenly all that became magnified and reflected counterpoint by counterpoint against every tragedy and loss in his life. He knotted the bag strings with a vengeance that threatened to rip the seams apart. Better that she had left him to die on the cross after the Reavers' attack, better that she had never knew him. She didn't deserve to be saddled with the spillovers of his chequered past. No one did, but most of all not Jubilee.

The cabin door slammed shut. Betsy came in and frowned when she saw his preparations.

"What on earth do you think you're doing, Logan?" When he failed to respond, she looked at him intently. "You know something we don't. What is it?"

Logan's explanation was hurried and low. "I don't have a clue, Betts. But I know the trail is growin' faint and I ain't going to catch anythin' if I delay any longer."

"And you intend to go without us? We're team mates, Logan. Give me time. I'll use the portable cerebro to scan the vicinity. Whoever or whatever it is, it can't be that far away."

Wolverine grabbed Psylocke's shoulders and shook her impatiently. He hated having to treat her this way. After all, the three of them - Jubilee, Elizabeth and himself had spent several months together piecing the team back after what happened during the Siege Perilous. But time was running short.

"I can't afford the wait, darlin'. This thing is like nothin' I've seen before. I can't fer my life figure out what it is. And leavin' Jubes alone with it - damnit Betts, I'm scared, and the ol' canucklehead ain't afraid to admit it this time. Do what yer must, I'm goin' after her myself. If it's only an animal," uncertainty cracked his conviction here, "I'm the best person to deal with it."

"No you're not. I'm coming with you."

The two X-Men turned around in surprise. Emma was standing at the doorway. She had changed her attire in the interim. Now she was dressed in a winter hiking suit, right down to appropriately thick boots, and a haversack slung across her shoulders. The sight was so decidedly piquant that Logan took several seconds to respond.

"I don't have time to play games with yer, Frost." His voice came out as a low growl.

"And I have better things to do. You've reminded me that Jubilation is under my charge, kindly allow me to exert my responsibility then. What is your complaint? Lack of time? I am prepared to set off - when you're done dispensing tearful farewells."

"Get it into yer head! All those things yer see in there? Those - are - signs but why they're there, what they do, I've no bloody clue. Don't expect me to hold yer hands when yer decide that yer had enough and want to come back to yer plush cushions."

If it was possible, Emma's tone became more clipped. "And what do you intend to do when you find it? Organise a teeth baring match with it to prove your animal superiority? Save your breath, Logan. I am coming, with or without your agreement."

There was no finesse in her verbal attacks. Most likely she did not even think he was worth the extra effort. She would pound on him mercilessly over that one weakness she found, until he collapsed from the repeated blows. And he wasn't going to give her that much-coveted pat on the back.

He stared at her for a long time.

"Yer want in? Fine, yer're in."

"Logan!" Betsy turned around and demanded to Emma. "What about the rest of the students? What does Sean have to say about this?"

"Sean is not entitled to answer for my actions. He is attending to Paige in the med-lab now. Gambit is securing the perimeters from further attack. In fact, the three of you should be enough to handle small disturbances on the sidelines."

Betsy seethed as the blonde woman turned her head away as a dismissal and descended down the ramp. She had never believed in the White Queen's reformation, every part of it carried the stink of her own agenda. A hand came down gently on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Logan's gruff voice reached her. Her expression softened when she saw how he struggled to find the correct words. "I just know that if somethin' were to happen to the firecracker - all the healin' factor in the world ain't goin' to make that part of me right again."

She gave a tremulous nod. "I know. Don't let that woman get the better of you, you hear me Logan?"

As a salute, he jammed his cowboy hat on at a jaunty angle and left the plane.

They ran along the course of the woods at the back of the school. These covered the nape of the Berkshire Range like a dark green comforter. Coniferous trees thrived in this part of Massachusetts but the expanse of greenery did not provide any assurance of life or regeneration. As Logan and Emma trudged through the forest, they could see how the leaves were dark and shrivelled up as the trees gradually transferred the sap away from the extremities of their body parts. The oncoming winter promised to be bitter, a promise that reiterated itself in the dying undergrowth and the endless rows of cold-parched trunks.

When plans for school were drawn up many years ago, Emma had intentionally chosen this obscure location for security and training purposes. East of the academy was a hundred miles of state-owned land, an uninhabitable mountainous landscape that formed the back fence with Massachusetts's more populous neighbour, the state of New York. And right at this moment, the trial was leading them towards the range, away from all civilisation.

Logan stopped every few seconds to sniff at the air. Actually there was no need to. The musky animal scent that characterised the assailant still hung in the quiet air like a miasma of death. However, he was grateful that the strength of the smell had lessened considerably; at least it did not numb his nose the way it did when they were in Jubilee's room. Behind him, Emma paused and waited as he confirmed the trial.

They had been treading through the darkened forest for an hour or two now. It was half-past noon, but grey clouds blanketed the sky till it seemed as if twilight had settled in permanently. Silence pervaded the whole place, the lack of movement as they made their way through the brown undergrowth made it seemed as if that same silence was slowly seeping out of the very tree trunks.

The atmosphere of the place was part of the reason why Logan and Emma had not spoken to each other since they had begun, apart from the fact that they wanted little of each other's company as possible. But when Logan took his next periodic sniff, his look of surprise was enough for Emma to demand, "What is it?"

"The scent - it's changed direction."

He took the lead, half-jogging between the black trunks ahead. Emma pursed her lips and picked up speed. Then his jog turned into a headlong run. She was forced to exert more energy when she saw how Logan's figure diminished in the distance. He did not care if he left her behind, something had caught his notice and it was the only concern that mattered to him. Blood pounded in her ears as she crashed through the undergrowth in her effort to catch up. Emma winced as the sounds echoed through the silence harshly. For all his bulk, Logan seemed to have made very little noise.

She hit the last lap in the darkening gloom on her own. Anxiety began to colour her breath as she realised she was alone. The woods were anything but quiet now. The sound of her movements magnified themselves in the cold forest air. Snapping twigs became gunshots going off while whipping brush shrieked with a sound unlike that of prisoners dying in front of a firing squad. The reverberations travelled far into the encroaching darkness and reflected off the trees and back, an invisible maze of sound paths which the oncoming night participated in. The blackness felt palpable, alive. Sweat rolled down Emma's face but the rush of cold air did nothing to cool her down, it was as if the forest was reaching out its talons and snatching that bit of comfort from her.

Then she broke out of the forest.

A smear of lighter gloom was her only indication. Her sight burst free from the prison of black trunks just in time to register Logan's solitary figure standing against the sudden drop in the ground. But there was no time to check her impetus before she collided into him.

A slithering sound of boots slipping against wet grass and Logan caught the skin of her jacket before she could fall off the edge of a low plateau. For a moment, the world teetered on a tangle of limbs and a phantasmogoric vision of stagnant darkness and a neverending fall. Then,

"What the hell did you think you were doing, taking off like that?" Emma demanded, every intake of air threatening to tear through her lungs. She disengaged herself from his grasp and retreated several steps, well away from the edge. She tried to keep her knees from trembling as a cold sweat broke out, her body's delayed response to the near-fall.

She swore she could almost see the invisible smile on his lips as he pointed wordlessly towards the grassy plain that stretched below them. But nevertheless, she kept her mouth shut as her eyes followed his direction.

There was a small settlement at a distance of half a mile away. It was a filling station, the interstate highway cut across the forested landscape here like a meandering grey snake. From their vantage, they counted five houses clustered together. Smoke curled idly over two of them; little details that the fast-falling night would soon obscure. On the other side of the road, they could see how the dark green forest rose again like another black wall.

Thunder rumbled in the distant heavens and a light rain began to fall. Not a word was exchanged between the two of them over this change of development or the first unexpected destination of their trip. The impenetrable twilight and the mist of rain began to work into them by insidious degrees. Slowly, the settlement beneath them took on different dimensions. Here was hoped-for civilisation. But by some unknown reason, the source of their trepidation also arrowed itself at the innocuous buildings like an unholy influence.

The trees behind them rustled. They whipped around in startlement. Something small and black broke through, its croaking call piercing the night air. It was a raven. The animal's piping cries fade into the distance as it dove into the dank wall of trees on the other side of the highway.

Emma swiped her wet hair away from her eyes. Not being able to see clearly frightened her suddenly. Was it the same creature that they found earlier on? It couldn't be, right? Dead things don't come alive and take to the skies in a hideous enactment of their living repertory.

But neither was she dreaming when she saw the corpse stare at her.

Wolverine shouldered his pack and grunted, "Time we set out."

Emma grabbed at his sleeve.

"Wait."

Logan gave her a questioning look. The ire between them had long since been eroded by the unexpected changes made on their plans.

Emma hated herself for the admission but the least she could do was inform him about the nature of things that they were going to deal with.

"It stared at me."

Logan frowned. "What?"

Her still voice made a jarring contrast with the drumming rain. "The dead bird. After you left the room, it lifted its head and stared at me."

He exhaled noisily. She decided to press the warning home just in case he didn't get it.

"You realise what that means, don't you?"

There was a long silence before he spoke again, "When we get down to it, we'll think of somethin'. Fer now, let's get going."

Emma bit her lip and said nothing. His tone was uneasy and she felt inordinately glad that she had made the admission. She hated to be treated like a fool but he had believed what she said. But the brief taste of victory faded away rapidly as she came to sober terms with Logan's response - he may have acknowledged the signs but it did not erase the fact that everything unsettled him greatly. She saw it in the defensive set of his shoulders as he trudged downhill. From anyone else, it wouldn't meant anything. But from Logan, it was everything.

Then she realised what was even more chilling was how it didn't unsettle her the way it did for him. Suddenly, a yawning gap in her consciousness rose up dark and deep, taunting her over things she could not comprehend or understand.

The rain came down harder. She shook her head furiously to clear the rain from her eyes and saw how Logan was already halfway down the slope. Emma sighed and left the dubious protection of the trees to join him in their trek across the naked expanse towards the settlement.