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Logan lay awake that night, watching the shadows of the raindrops settling and plummeting down the sides of his tent. The storm had continued on into the evening and late into the night. There was no measure of time anymore, only the difference between night and day. For a while it was impossible to tell if the explosions in the sky were thunder or gunfire in the distance. The tepid pitter patter of the raindrops drowned out all sound of the world outside his tent.

Logan lay awake for what felt like hours, anxious to get up and move. By mid day they would have reached the hospital and he would be content to be given a new assignment. He had been in General Cassidy’s infantry long enough and he had been slightly thrilled to hear that they would be joining General Magneto’s battalion when they arrived. Magneto was a metal bending giant who was the greatest mutant defense against the human attacks. Logan pictured himself following this battleground legend amidst gunfire, flying debris, and human cavalry jets overhead. It was exhilarating.

His concentration was broken when he heard a stirring outside his tent. He heard a zipper and then the swish swish of feet struggling through the thicket of overgrown grass. One of his companions had left their tent. Shifting so that he faced the triangular doorway of his tent, he peered out of the thin, zippered opening and saw Ororo standing about five yards away, staring up at the sky. He was suddenly aware that the rain had stopped.

Logan’s mind seemed fixated on the stunning creature in the tall grass. He had been struck by her beauty since she had become a captain in General Cassidy’s infantry two years ago. She had thrice the beauty of this revered goddess she often swore to and, watching her standing under the spotlight of the gleaming, she was truly that angel with moonbeam hair and ocean water eyes. Her olive toned skin was like the soft sand on a beach where the waves caressed the shore. She was a strong woman, in fit and in mind. She was dangerous if challenged but took her position with the uttermost seriousness because she felt true compassion toward all the lives under her command.

He often thought she did not much care for him and often referred to what he would call logic to be pigheadedness. He would never dwell on her opinion of him but in times of weakness he found himself keenly agreeing with her. She often had a stern, powerful default expression on her face but there were countable times when she would grace those about her with a smile. Logan found it truly stunning.

Ororo seemed in a thoughtful trance of her own as she stared at the skyline above the trees. The forest was quiet. With a heavy sigh, she turned on her boot heel and traipsed back to her tent. As she passed, Logan caught a whisper of her perfume, lilac and vanilla. He would always think of her with that familiar scent.

He heard her zip up the flap opening and it was all quiet again. Staring toward the ceiling of his tent again, lost in thought, Logan heard a faint weeping coming from the tent close by and he saw that it had started to rain.

The following morning…

By the time they had set out for the hospital the next morning, all signs of the night’s storms had vanished and all that remained was the trickle of dew from the leaves overhead. They traveled, for the most part, in silence. LeBeau and Cassidy chatted in whispers while Ororo and Logan walked a few yards ahead. They didn’t say a word. Once, Ororo saw Logan peer over at her but then focused straight ahead on their walking path. In the end it was he who broke the icy wall.

“Anything wrong,” he asked? Ororo turned to him with an expressionless face.

“Why do you ask?”

Logan gestured upward with a pointed finger at the blackening clouds.

Ororo knew not to follow his gaze. She knew her foul mood was taking its tole on the fresh morning sky. She chose an aimless answer that would hopefully close all roads to conversation. She did not feel like talking, particularly with an antagonize like Logan.

“Just anxious to get to the hospital to help the doctors,” answered Ororo.

To her dismay, Logan pressed on.

“You seem tired.”

Ororo said nothing.

Logan turned to look at her and she was staring straight ahead, occasionally peering down at her feet to avoid tripping on the jagged rocks hidden in the dirt. He recognized the signs that she did not want to talk. They were often emitted from him towards most people he met. He knew that expression as if it were on his own face but, despite his rashness, he felt genuine concern. He spoke again.

“I heard you leave your tent last night,” Logan dared.

This time, Logan had her full attention.

“So,” she countered?

“Nothing, you just seem upset,” he said defensively, wondering where he had expected this to go in the first place.

“We’re in the middle of a war, Logan. No one is exactly stable right now.”

Logan had lost pace with her as she quickened her pack as they ducked under some low branches from some tangled trees.

“Yeah but there’s a difference between being stressed and temperamental,” said Logan and this had really pushed a nerve.

Ororo riled on Logan and broke her pace ahead of him to stare him down lest he dare say anything else.

“You’re one to talk about temperamental,” Ororo hissed.

Her glare didn’t faze Logan in the slightest. He returned with defensive bitterness.

“Yeah well you’re the one who has to be in charge right? So that means I have to count on you to keep my ass alive so wake up!”

If Ororo’s eyes were an ocean there would be a hurricane blazing inside her. The irritable fury in her words punctured the air as she spoke.

“Well no one would ever be so foolish as to trust you with their life.”





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