The large school was littered with kids, but at this time they were all asleep in their beds, or studying for a big test they had the next. Wolverine wished he was that lucky, but he wasn't. He was stuck in the professor's room listening (or at least pretending to) to him go on about stuff he already knew. Magneto was coming back, people still feared us mutants, it was always the same stuff, and he would hear it all from Cyclops tomorrow on their mission anyway.
He was standing the furthest away from the small group of six people, all the other 'X men' piped up and asserted to do his or her job. They were the biggest cliché group of 'good guys' he'd even seen. He, on the other hand only cared about was getting to where they were headed tomorrow and beat the crap out of someone.
It was dark outside, and the moon was on the other side of the school, putting the front yard into a deeper shadow, blinding most people that relied on their eyes to tell them what was lurking there. Wolverine didn't have that problem, he sniffed the air at the sudden familiar sent that snapped into the air, and his blue eyes darted to the left, as if he could behind him at what waited in the trees.
All the muscles in his short body tighten, and the three metal claws in his left hand slowly pierced his skin. He was ready to lunge at the person who he knew was about to appear in the group's midst. Large arm, and broad shoulders flexed under a tight white muscle shirt; all the black hair on his body rose, ready for a fight.
Toes cracked in old work boots as he uncrossed his ankles and he pushed his way off the wall, standing with his feet shoulder length apart. The smell vanished for a split second, and then reappeared just as fast, and stronger. Leg muscles retracted under the cover of worn blue jeans, and before the small amount of smoke thinned, and any of the others could make more then a gasp of surprise; he pushed from the white tile.
All six of his claws came out, the familiar pain shaking up his arm, and the scrape of metal on metal ringing in his ears. His arm punched forward, Adamantium claws plunging into his target. The smooth metal sliced easily past the red and black uniform, and into the soft scared skin underneath.
