Owner	Pose
Logan	It was raining. Hard. And cold. Man, it was cold. Temperatures hovering right around freezing. At this time of year, all of this was pretty normal, as November had come, and almost had gone. Most of the forest was vacant now, as all the campers had left long ago, allowing the animals to creep back into the areas where some remnants of crumbs, food, and refuse was left behind. Through all of this, a shadow falls. A loud howl of pain and anger cracks through the quiet like thunder from the air. Those animals that had come here for food and safety scramble for the woods. The sound was of a wounded animal, perhaps even a mortally wounded animal.
Mercy Thompson	Mercy had come out camping after all the others had left. Just the back of her VW vanagan, a gas stove, a small fire, a chair and lots of blankets. She's been stuffing clothes in a small backpack: shoes, shirt, socks, jeans, and so on. Light. Then she shifts, turning in the blink of an eye into a coyote. the coyote shakes from nose to tail, then scrambles into the pack and trots off for a run in the woods.     Coyote Mercy is on her way back to the campsite when that howl splits the forest air. She freezes, listens, turning her head this way and that to get a direction. Against her better judgement, Mercy runs toward it.
Logan	Grunting, groaning, and moaning, Logan stumbles towards the nearest trash can. Discovering it empty, he throws the trash can across the camp site with a growl, and a cry of frustration. His clothes are trashed, leaving barely anything covering all the hairy bits, and the blood-covered remnants of clothes and skin reveals that he was in a wicked battle just recently.     A battle it appears Logan may have lost. What draws your attention though, was not the wounds that seem to heal right before your eyes, or the long slash marks on his face slowly sewing themselves closed, but his craze-filled, maddened eyes of pure rage. Logan sniffs, his eyes narrowing, and his eyes search the area for the new scent.
Mercy Thompson	The coyote freezes, knowing about wounded enraged people and animals. She watches, then notes the sniffing for a scent and with a sigh steps slowly into view. Best to be seen than hide and stoke that rage. She stays wary, ready to run, though.
Logan	It was obvious by his expression that Logan was in a feral rage right now. Sniffing the air, he turns suddenly, and sees Mercy. A low growl comes out of his mouth, and he stares at her for several seconds. Something was there though, something behind those eyes striving to break free. His humanity was there, it was just hidden. Suddenly, his right hand moves up slightly, and a sound echoes into the sudden silence. "SNIKT!" Three silver-metallic claws appear between the knuckles of his right hand, and he tales a step forward. Shaking his head, most of the blood flicking off his face, Logan allows the rain to start to clean the now-healed slashes on his face.
Mercy Thompson	Time to leave when the blades pop out. Mercy bolts straight ahead rather than waste time trying to turn and run. The turn comes in the first half dozen strides, as she picks out a deer trail and puts on a little speed.
Logan	Logan blinks, growls, and starts to follow, but is quickly out raced by the speedy Mercy. As he turns to run down a rain-slicked slope, he stumnbles, falls, and is instantly covered in muck, grass, leaves, and who knows what else. As his tumbling comes to a very embrassaing stop, Logan groans, rolls over, and shakes his head.     "What...the...hell...?!?" Logan says, as the tumble and concussion pops some semblance of normalcy into his adle brain. Stanind shakily, he tries to brush the mud off himself when he realises his claws are poped in his right hand.     "SNIKT!" and they are gone once more. Looking at himself, Logan shakes his head, and then realises he was chasing someone. Calling out Logan says, "Sorry!" Grumbling, Logan sighs, and starts to move back towards the camp as the rain keeps falling.
Mercy Thompson	Hearing the sound of the fall Mercy stops. She turns and looks...and being incurably curious, trots after him to see where he's going. Especially since it seems he's no longer in a blind killing rage. she doesn't really try to hide that she's there, no special effort at quiet or concealment.
Logan	Finding a picnic table, Logan plants his keister on the bench, and sighs, loudly. Looking up at the rain, he allows it to clense his body of the mucd and blood and other, and gets his rage under control. After a few moments, Logan closes his eyes, his breathing now more regular, and says, "You can come out now Thompson. I remember you." Logan taps his nose, and says, "Sorry I was a bit out a' sorts. Just got ma' ass kicked, and was in a rage as ma' healing factor kicked in and healed ma' head trauma." His words are slurred, as the healing has completed it's job yet.
Mercy Thompson	Mercy comes out, nods once and disappears out of sight to change, and quickly pull clothes on. It's cold when you don't have a fur coat. She comes back out, human and clothed...jeans, canvas sneakers, long sleeve shirt over a t shirt. "Logan. I thought that was you howling in the woods. What happened?"
Logan	Logan looks up, his features now looking like the man she had met before. "It is a long story. Let's just say it involves an ambush, explosives, swords, ninjas, poison, and me getting my ass kicked." Logan stands, and then almost falls over. He was out on his feet, and groaned as the pain started to be registered.
Mercy Thompson	Mercy moves quickly to catch. "Whoa....I'm camped not far away. THink you can walk a little? I can feed you, give you a place to rest." She looks around. "Or I can drive the van over..." that's a better idea. "Wait here." Mercy eases him to the bench of the picnic table unless he protests.
Logan	Logan weighs a ton, of course, but nothing Mercy can't handle with the right leverage. "I can walk." Logan allows himself to be guided. "Thank you." He says, and means it. "Usually my healing factor quickly deals with this stuff, but for some reason, it is really struggling. The Hand must have some concoction they are using to stop my abilities from doing their thing."     Logan nods as Mercy guides him to the bench, and he sits down. Then he raises his hand. "Don't worry, I'll be okay." He looks at his situation, and almost, almost, blushes. "Sorry about this." He grabs her hand before she leaves. "You shouldn't get involved. There are probably one or two left around here stalking me." AT that, the sounds of shuffling, and a branch snapping comes to their ears. And Logan sighs again. "Dammit..." The dark shapes in the woods start to encircle them both.
Mercy Thompson	Mercy damns quietly. she'd left her pistol in the vanagan. "You and your ninjas...I really need to start listening to Bran when he tells me to be careful." Mostly said to herself. She gives Logan's hand a squeeze. "Get involved is what I do, Logan." She looks around to see if there's a handy weapon she can grab. Nothing. Well, she'll take one from the bad guys then. "got any good plans up your sleeve?"
Logan	Logan grins, as though he was born to this. "No. Stabby, stab, and bleed them." With a "snikt" his claws appear once more. "Be careful..." Splunk. Looking down Logan sees the shuriken that suddenly appears in his chest. "Ouch." With that he jumps up, and heads towards the nearest shadow. There were four of them. Two behind him, and two in front of them. "Think you can handle a few ninjas?" With that he leaps into the shadows at the two nearest to him.
Mercy Thompson	Mercy goes the other way for the two behind, using speed to get to them before they're quite ready. Nothing fancy as she charges the pair of Ninjas, just speed. And a little misdirection. She flings her hand like she's got something in it, but the real attack is a kick at the closest one's crotch. No fighting fair here.
Logan	The first Ninja that Mercy strikes in the groin goes down with a gasp, and a moan, clutching at the vulnerable spot, out of the fight for the moment. The second circles around, a little more wary, holding up his sword, and waiting for an opening. "Surrendur." The Hand hisses, "And your death will be quick and merciful!"     Logan lunges towards the first ninja he faces with the claws of the right hand, and before the Hand soldier knows what is happening, three claws skewer him through his chest. With a gasp, he goes down. The second one, where was he..."Argh!" Logan calls out, as a sword blade appears out of his chest in front of him. Looking down, he realises the man was behind him, and with a twist, snaps the sword from his hands, leaving it in his chest.     With a grimace, he reaches around his back and uses his left hand to draw the blade out of his chest. Using his right hand and claws to slash at the Hand soldier, he opens a jugular vein, killing him almost instantly. Dropping to his right knee, he gasps for breath as his healing factor tries to heal the chest wound.
Mercy Thompson	Mercy doesn't waste breath talking, she dives for the incapacitated Ninja's sword, grabbing and rolling, moving as absolutely fast as she can. She heard Logan's bellow but can't spare him the look, she has her own more immediate problems. Mercy comes up with the sword in guard, ready to block, which is good because the assassin followed her, close since he'd begun to suspect she was more than she appeared. Sword blades clash, and Mercy takes a kick in the hip, making her stumble back. The Hand follows close on her, and the sword blades continue their metallic clatter as teh two fence, Mercy trading space for time and the ninja pushing the pace.
Logan	For now, Logan was out of the battle, the healing factor he relies on working terribly slow. Struggling to stand, he watches as Mercy holds her own. With a grimace, he hefts the sword he pulled out of his chest in his hand, and throws it towards the Ninja struggling to rise after his crotch punch.     Distracting the Ninja for a second, it gives Mercy the opportunity to concentrate on the one she was clashing swords with, and allows Logan the chance to grimace again as his punctured lung spews blood.     "Follish woman." The Hand soldier says, spitting venom. "You are no match for one of the Hand." The swords clang, and sparks fly. Seeing an openng, he raises the sword for the killing blow, letting his guard down in his over-confidence. "Now, it ends." He slashes.
Mercy Thompson	Mercy takes the shot...the man drops his guard and her sword licks out, cutting the tendons in his sword arm. The blade drops and she strikes again over it, a quick flick and blood flies from a cut throat. He gurgles and starts to fall and Mercy turns to teh one she castrated a kick earlier. He's still groaning, but not for long. A quick stab and the sword splits his heart and he's still. Mercy's breathing hard like she just finished the 400 meter sprint, splashed with gore, limping from the kick she took earlier. She limps over to Logan.     "You're not healing like you should," she mutters. Between gasps. "Thanks for throwing that sword..." She takes a deep breath, holds it, lets it out. Her breathing is slowing but still fast. "Food? rest? Bandages? What can I do?"
Logan	The first Ninja goes down, out of the fight, efficiently. The second looks at Mercy, surprise registering in his eyes, as he, too, goes down without another sound. And just like that, it was over.     Logan clenches his jaw, and grits his teeth as he feels the tendons knitting, and the wounds closing. Standing finally, Logan watches as Mercy deals with the Ninja Hand Assassins quite efficiently. Not getting involved, he keeps his claws out, just in case he needs to get in there to help out.     "Nice work." Logan says with a smile, and then a grimace of pain. "Sorry ah dragged ya' into this, Mercy." Logan finds himself sitting once more. "Thought I got them all. Damn mosquitoes." Logan looks up at her, and shakes his head. "Nuthin, I think ya' did enough. Thank you." Logan coughs, tries to hide the blood on his fingers, and sighs. And coughs. "Dammit." His breathing comes in rasps.     "Yeah. Healing. Something is wrong. Been having a helluva time lately. Thanks fer noticing."
Mercy Thompson	Mercy doesn't say anything right away, just looks him over. she still has that sword in her hand. She looks around at the four dead ninjas then back at Logan. After a moment, she says: "Think you can walk to my van? I'm camped on the other side of the campground, about a quarter mile. I don't think I can carry you. I'm a coyote, not a werewolf."
Logan	"Yeah, I think I can make it." Logan gets up, a little unsteady, but his pride intact. "Thank you." Logan grimaces as the pain regsiters, then he buries it almost as quickly as it appears. "Got any beer in that van of yours?" Logan says, and he shambles towards it. "Or something stronger...?"
Mercy Thompson	Mercy walks along slowly with Logan. "Sorry, you'll have to settle for hot chocolate. I brought the jalepeno chocolate though so there's some kick to it." She tucks up under his shoulder to support him, holding that arm and walking toward where she's camped, but letting Logan set the pace. "Once you get cleaned up and get some food you'll ahve to tell me what's going on." Mercy smirks briefly. "I'll find the trouble anyway...you know that, right? Best I know about it so I can cope."