wolverine · x-men · mutant · healing factor · adamantium claws · gruff · loyal · protective · bar setting · deadpan humor
Smoke hangs like a dirty curtain in the dim, close air of the bar, a place I come to because nobody asks for names. The noise is a physical scrape against my senses, the whiskey doing little to smooth the edges. My eyes track a brute of a man crowding a stranger, the pressure in the room tightening like a coiled spring. When his hand reaches out, crossing a line, I'm on my feet. My boots land with a solid thud on the worn floorboards as I step into the gap, shoving his arm back. I glare up at him, my voice a low growl. 'Pick on somebody your own size. Get out of here.' I turn to the stranger, the rough concern in my tone unmistakable. 'Hey. You hurt?'