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"I wouldn't say it's a habit, I only do it to men that I find to be interesting enough to see in such a state. You've done quite well tonight Jacob, but I have one last test for you. Come closer to me, don't be afraid I won't bite."

"Erk!" He was embraced by the woman, before he could reject. Once she backed away, he narrowed his eyes, but not making any motion or thought of malice. After a moment, he finally looked down, and whisperred. "...Thank you, Tante-sama..." And he'd bow, in formal respectful japanese manner.

The two then left, and Logan kept himself near her as close as possible. No one paid them any mind or heed, but Logan didn't let anything get near them. It wouldn't be long, though, they would be out in the forest, making their way through the trees and snow. He glanced over his shoulder, then looked to her. "I think when we get to London, we will have to decide what we do with Fury... He an't be left alive. We still have a job to finish."

The animal within still held control over him, she reasoned, listening to his words as they slowly make their way from the camp and through the woods towards the North end of London. Though they had trespassed against them, the clan had taken them in, treated her wounds and allowed them to depart in peace. Fury would call them friends, but to Logan, they remain accomplices.

In her heart a game of tug o war ensues between her honor and her sense of duty to her work. In days past she had considered the two to be one and the same, but her experience has given her room for pause and she no longer remains so certain. The lines have become blurred. To kill the friend of a friend would be to kill a friend, but to deny a friend his heart would be the same.

Few words are spoken as they travel through the woods. She reunites with her horse in close proximity to where she had left him, drinking from the creek. The white stallion whinnys in recgnition and accepts her hand on the reigns. She offers a smile, and gently pets the mane while Logan saddles it up with their gear.

Looking to him, she can tell that his thoughts have drifted once more to revenge. His manner became gruff as he loaded the supplies and clothes, his breath mildly anxious. What Fury had done to him will remain for the rest of his life, she reasoned. No amount of revenge can ever replace such a great amount of pain.

Growing weary, Elektra asks for and recieves a prop onto her horse from Logan. He elects to remain on foot, his nose dancing with the scent of nature. They would be in London soon, and the ordeal would be over, only to be followed by a new one.

The fireplace crackles gently against the backdrop of the walls, settling Elektra's mind after several emotionally eventful hours. Their journey had been long, but physically peaceful. She curls beneath the blanket, grateful for the warmth provided by Logan's body lying down on his back next to her. His arms were folded across his chest and his senses remained vigilant, nostrils flaring at every new scent picked up.

Outside of the room, the floor of hallway creaked under the heavy footsteps of weary guests who continued to check in to escape the inclimate weather. Elektra paid them no mind, allowing herself to slowly drift into the soothing embrace of sleep. Logan did not have it so good.

The traffic through the corridor slowed, but his mind raced, tracking down every new odor picked up by his ever keen nose. From beneath the doorjam he could see faint shadows jostling about, their full shape blurred from the candles lining the walls. Still, he watched. Elektra murmured and shifted her weight, reaching over to clutch his blanket from him. He willingly gives it up in favor of his self assigned duty.

He sits up carefully so as not to disturb his resting partner. His nostrils flared though he could not identify the new smell. It struck him as perhaps feral, though he was unsure. He blinks, recalling the sign posted on the frosted window as they stepped in. It read, "No animals allowed".

He leans forward and sniffs more intently. The scent was decidedly masked. He could detect minute traces of human as well as animal. Somebody had gone through an incredible amount of trouble to hide themselves, someone who knew of him and his abilities.

He lifts himself from the bed and rises to his feet. Elektra is quick to claim his pillow from him. He pays her no attention, preferring to let her rest as long as possible. He steps across the floor towards the door.

He sniffs at the door, craning his neck for a glimpse through the jam into the hallway. It is empty, only the dancing light of the candles are there to greet him. There is no peephole through which to see. He would have to rely on his senses, but the unusual scent has disappeared. He waits for several minutes and then frowns. Whatever, whoever it was, they have left.

"What is it?" Elektra asks sleepily, her eyes barely opened.

"Nothin' darlin" He replies softly, returning to bed with her. He slides back in over top of his blanket beside her. He offers shimmering grin, settling back down. "Can I have my pillow back?"

She pauses at his question. The words bring the memories of recent days flooding back into her mind. The anger, the pain, and then ultimately... her death. The images stir within her and prompt her to shift uncomfortably.

"I'd rather not talk about it right now."

In truth, the mere mention of the assignment brought with it the pain she had suffered. It was pain she did not wish to experience again. Still, Fury was her assignment. She had entered into a contract with the dictator of Latveria, Count Otto Von Doom, to eliminate the threat he posed to Doom's rule. She had given her word. The word of one to Doom may as well be a blood bond, for failure would be to spill your own.Doom would certainly come looking for her once word has reached his ears. She consciously forces the thoughts from her mind and once more tries to settle in.

Logan's nose remains vigilant,on the lookout for new and unusual scents while Elektra searches for her favored sleeping position of the night. Slowly but surely she does as Logan had expected of her, she shifts, stretches and curls up until he has been cast against the wall, staking her claim to the vast majority of their bed.

He chuckles softly beneath his breath, letting her have the bed as she had done ever since he had first shared one with her. Cover hog, pillow hog, Elektra takes the whole thing.

The sandman finally returns to embrace her, allowing her thoughts to stray into a lush dreamscape. Logan has yet to shut his eyes. From his position shoved against the wall he keeps his nose primed for any new, or now familiar scents. Outside, the wind blows thoughtfully, jostling leaves about. Some scrape against the window pane on their trip to see old man winter.

Outside, the footsteps begin anew.

The sound, and the shadow of the feet slip away out of his sight. The scent follows, slowly disappearing into the bouquet of spilled liquor, ciagrs and smoke pipes. He strained trying to follow it for it blended well with the less than amicable backdrop.

He frowns, pressing his head against the cold wood door frame. With the disappearance of the first, a new scent emerges, but it is not from the hallway. He cranes his neck towards the ceiling. A muffled thump emanates through the panels of the withered roof and his nostrils flare once more.

Two of them?

Somebody has come, perhaps for them. He reasoned that they could be here for any number of guests, given the general disposition of the clientele, but he refused to dismiss the thought that it was for him that they came.

Elektra murmers once again beneath both of her blankets and pillows and stretches out comfortably. Logan takes redirects his gaze from the roof ever so briefly to his partner resting peacefully. She has been through too much recently to handle a fight, he reasons.

The scent returns, inviting his nose to the door. He obliges, stepping quietly to just outside of striking distance. Call him anything but careless. Another thump is heard from the roof. His gaze shifts again.

The thumps go silent. He tenses himself against the wall, listening for them to begin again, but only the whispered howl of the wind can be heard, even by his ears. His knuckles whiten against the steel of the sword, anxiously anticipating the expected forced entry.

"Logan, what's wrong?" Elektra asks, sitting upright in the bed and clutching a sheet over her otherwise exposed breasts.

He gestures to her with a flat hand, advising her to keep quiet. She says nothing more, now bringing herself to the edge of the bed. She reaches for her clothes, strewn across the floor.

But the noise has vanished back into the chilled air. Have they left? No, of course not. They were repositioning themselves.

To where?

Suddenly a cloaked figure crashes through the window while the door is silmultanoeusly kicked in by another. They are both clad in standard black ninjitsu garb with covered faces revealing only their eyes. Firmly clasped in their hands are gleaming Katana swords.

The first one from thw window manages to grab Elektra by her hair as she had searched for her Sais, taken by Logan. She tries to fight back and lands a stiff right hand to the underside of his chin, but no more. In her weakened condition she is no match for the mystery man, and is floored with a several well-placed kicks. Logan jumps to her aid, but the second intruder from the door is quickly upon him.