He'd avoided her during her time at the mansion. He heard from other students that she didn't do anything; she did her schoolwork, usually only spoke when directly spoken to, and refused to participate in any type of martial arts or classes involving conflict. She occasionally held one-sided conversations. Logan was told she knew people's names before they were introduced to her. Her explanation was that Death knew everyone, and whispered their names in her ear.
When she graduated, she left Xavier's school and disappeared.
Logan was on a migratory route again, feeling the need to cover distance but having no particular destination selected. He stopped randomly at motels when he could afford them, picked up odd jobs here and there to keep him going. Passing through nameless towns, he always sought out the dingiest, dankest bar available. He never ran out of trouble in places like that, and it made him feel alive.
Pushing in the creaking door of the latest dive, his nose was assaulted with common odors: stale smoke, sweat, old beer. Underneath it all, barely noticable, was her.
Logan closed his eyes and stopped in the doorway. He debated turning on his heel and walking away.
"Shut the fuckin' door!" somebody demanded.
Logan walked through.