Feral Instinct
Part 2
Meat. He could smell fresh meat. Logan opened his eyes, growling. The caribou calf…of course. A fresh kill. He tried to stand. And failed. What the hell? He eased himself onto all fours. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Only he didn't know what it was.
The musky odour hanging around. He'd never smelt it before, yet something in his mind told him it was…him. His scent. He didn't understand until he looked down. His legs were brown and furry. Five claws protruded from each foot. Not adamantium claws but real, white claws. Dammit to hell…what had happened to him? Something inside his head called quietly…what was his name…Wolverine. He was Wolverine. A real one.

He tore and ate the caribou. No point in letting it go to waste anyway. No knowing when he would get his next meal. He wanted to get out of this body, and soon. The Wolverine instinct was controlling him too strongly. He couldn't even think straight. His mind was clouded with things he never knew he had in there…like the fact that July was coming soon…mating season. He had to find a mate…No! He had to find Xavier. He was sure the old guy could do something. Or at least clear these thoughts out of his head.
He looked around warily. He was near the He was sure the old guy could do something. Or at least clear these thoughts out of his head.
He looked around warily. He was near the Peace river, that much he knew. That meant he had at least 3500 kilometers to travel. He looked down at his brown-furred legs doubtfully. Well he had better start going…