No, that's--that's something that's obvious from the moment he turned the corner and saw him. The problem is that they're all stacking together, and not a single one of these problems is something he's ever dealt before in his life. It's truly a strange sight, and Phillip, lips parted and blinking owlishly, can only comprehend that it must be some sort of dream.
There are claws coming out of the man's hands, for one. While that's an incredibly pressing issue the biggest thing, pun pardoned, is the fact that the man is naked. Absolutely, completely indecent. Heaven on high.
He's frozen to the spot--don't want? Don't what, and why is his voice like fresh gravel, why does he sound like a trapped animal?--and unable to move, staring at the great heaving beast.
He needs to calm down. His hands are up, palms flat, as if to show him he's not carrying any knives or such. It's an instinctual thing and probably a little demeaning, and while Phillip is half certain he's hallucinating the claws it's the parched voice that's really getting to him. ]
May I take off my coat?
[ He'll start easy. Being polite and trying to keep his voice calm never hurt a situation. It's always helped. ]
[ Coat. Logan's eyes take in the young man's stance -- his palms up to show he doesn't mean to harm him -- and then nods his head once. He exhales shortly through his nose, carefully withdrawing his arms, and though his posture may relax in the smallest fraction, his fist no longer pointed the intruder's way (and isn't that funny? Logan's the fucking intruder, here), he keeps the claws out, bone-white and even gleaming a bit when the sunlight hits it.
A quiet reminder that any funny business will be dealt with swiftly.
(Much as Logan likes to tell himself he's nothing like his brother, it's funny that circumstance makes him just as trigger happy -- just as willing to sink his claws into someone's chest and belly.)
Logan takes a good whiff of the air around them and memorises the kid's scent. He's just as well-groomed as his appearances let on; Logan swiftly kicks the nostalgia in his gut with a growl rumbling in his chest and throat.
He doesn't speak again, though, watching the young man in a silent offering of well? Now what do you plan to do?. Head cocking slightly, eyes wild as he waits, Logan watches every move.
The kid has two options here: to leave (which would have Logan on his tail and pouncing on him, threatening him not to tell anyone about this); or to speak (which would have Logan wary, certainly, but at least he isn't going to rip him apart with his claws). Beyond all that, however, Logan does appreciate the calm tone. It helps, even if only a tiny part of him recognises it. ]
[ Phillip does neither. Not at first -- he has no intentions of leaving, and while a part of it is morbid curiousity (how's he doing that with his fingers? Or is it his arm?) a large part of it is that hoarse voice and wild look in his eyes.
It's probably rude to think, but Logan reminds him of a horse not yet broken in--wild, beautiful, dangerous, but alone. Very carefully, he takes the jacket in one hand and slowly moves forward, offering it to him.
It's certainly not his size, no, but it's something. The early morning is still cold, he reasons. ]
Here.
[ Still soft, still gentle, still curious even as he furrows his brow. The other doesn't smell like a drunk. ]
[ Logan's still until the kid's arm is completely extended, at which point he flinches back a moment with a slightly frantic edge to his expression. It doesn't smell off, but it takes a few seconds before his claws slide back into his hand and his fingers curl around the jacket instead.
The question makes him pause. But he goes with: ] No.
[ And it is cold, a little bit. Logan runs hotter than most people, but the gesture appeals more to the humanity he's buried than the parts of him connected to instinctive survival.
He knows how to put it on, but after staring at the sleeves and deciding it probably won't work out, he hooks the jacket over his shoulders instead. ]
I ran.
[ Out of the forest, out of the cold and the wild and the danger -- away from his brother and his violence. He curls into himself, crouching on the ground with a frown. ]
I'll leave. [ He doesn't intend on being a bother. ] Just need rest.
[ Phillip tries his best to fight the strangely sick feeling that overwhelms him when the other's claws slink back in, reminded suddenly of ghost stories around hearth and fire when storms raged on. It's near nausea, but he contains it well and keeps a neutral expression as the other whips the jacket around his shoulders.
Close enough. ]
No--no no, don't leave.
[ He looks wild, and while he doesn't look hurt he looks hurt, and Phillip is left wondering very briefly if he's suddenly come on too strong. The truth of it is that this man is the most interesting thing that's happened to him in a very long time. ]
[ As soon as the kid says hungry, Logan's stomach growls. Like he'd forgotten that hunger was a thing until he was reminded-- and really, that's probably as accurate a sentiment as anything.
He can't lie by saying "no", so he just scowls about it. ] Don't have to feed me. [ His voice is still rasping, still ugly. Logan snarls at the sound of himself, as if upset by it, then directs sharp eyes the younger man's way. ]
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no subject
No, that's--that's something that's obvious from the moment he turned the corner and saw him. The problem is that they're all stacking together, and not a single one of these problems is something he's ever dealt before in his life. It's truly a strange sight, and Phillip, lips parted and blinking owlishly, can only comprehend that it must be some sort of dream.
There are claws coming out of the man's hands, for one. While that's an incredibly pressing issue the biggest thing, pun pardoned, is the fact that the man is naked. Absolutely, completely indecent. Heaven on high.
He's frozen to the spot--don't want? Don't what, and why is his voice like fresh gravel, why does he sound like a trapped animal?--and unable to move, staring at the great heaving beast.
He needs to calm down. His hands are up, palms flat, as if to show him he's not carrying any knives or such. It's an instinctual thing and probably a little demeaning, and while Phillip is half certain he's hallucinating the claws it's the parched voice that's really getting to him. ]
May I take off my coat?
[ He'll start easy. Being polite and trying to keep his voice calm never hurt a situation. It's always helped. ]
no subject
A quiet reminder that any funny business will be dealt with swiftly.
(Much as Logan likes to tell himself he's nothing like his brother, it's funny that circumstance makes him just as trigger happy -- just as willing to sink his claws into someone's chest and belly.)
Logan takes a good whiff of the air around them and memorises the kid's scent. He's just as well-groomed as his appearances let on; Logan swiftly kicks the nostalgia in his gut with a growl rumbling in his chest and throat.
He doesn't speak again, though, watching the young man in a silent offering of well? Now what do you plan to do?. Head cocking slightly, eyes wild as he waits, Logan watches every move.
The kid has two options here: to leave (which would have Logan on his tail and pouncing on him, threatening him not to tell anyone about this); or to speak (which would have Logan wary, certainly, but at least he isn't going to rip him apart with his claws). Beyond all that, however, Logan does appreciate the calm tone. It helps, even if only a tiny part of him recognises it. ]
no subject
It's probably rude to think, but Logan reminds him of a horse not yet broken in--wild, beautiful, dangerous, but alone. Very carefully, he takes the jacket in one hand and slowly moves forward, offering it to him.
It's certainly not his size, no, but it's something. The early morning is still cold, he reasons. ]
Here.
[ Still soft, still gentle, still curious even as he furrows his brow. The other doesn't smell like a drunk. ]
Did you lose your way?
no subject
The question makes him pause. But he goes with: ] No.
[ And it is cold, a little bit. Logan runs hotter than most people, but the gesture appeals more to the humanity he's buried than the parts of him connected to instinctive survival.
He knows how to put it on, but after staring at the sleeves and deciding it probably won't work out, he hooks the jacket over his shoulders instead. ]
I ran.
[ Out of the forest, out of the cold and the wild and the danger -- away from his brother and his violence. He curls into himself, crouching on the ground with a frown. ]
I'll leave. [ He doesn't intend on being a bother. ] Just need rest.
Sorry.
no subject
Close enough. ]
No--no no, don't leave.
[ He looks wild, and while he doesn't look hurt he looks hurt, and Phillip is left wondering very briefly if he's suddenly come on too strong. The truth of it is that this man is the most interesting thing that's happened to him in a very long time. ]
Are you hungry?
no subject
He can't lie by saying "no", so he just scowls about it. ] Don't have to feed me. [ His voice is still rasping, still ugly. Logan snarls at the sound of himself, as if upset by it, then directs sharp eyes the younger man's way. ]
Why do you want me to stay.