Two: Bend
The Lowrider's growl reverberated through his body as he rounded another curve. Canadian wilderness rushed past; he was headed south again. Six months had been enough this time – even if the mansion would never be the same. Her memory lingered everywhere. But this time she was truly gone.
He'd come to terms with all of that now.
Everything changed, everything aged – he knew that. That's how it all worked. People died. Children grew up and became adults, then they died too. The world was constantly shifting, morphing, advancing. Every day. Every moment. For better or worse.
Yeah, the world changed all the time. He just didn't change with it.
Wind whipped at his face as he rode on, tearing down the road with a practiced ease. Headed south again – for New York. For Westchester. For home.
The Wolverine was headed home.
