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Author's note: For further info on Raven and the Vancouver Vigilantes, check out Lorna's page at http://www.geocities.com/Paris/Metro/8570/.

The Raven and The Wolverine
        By Lorna Appleby

"I had some dreams there were clouds in my coffee.." sang Carly Simon across the restaurant's juke box. Raven sighed, 'How true, Carly, how true.' She sat in her jeans and a silk blouse in a small cafe near the waterfront, she could hear the tugboats tooting their horns, and the freightors pulling up to the dock across the harbor. She was doodling in her sketch book, the native ideal of Raven flying over Coyote's head taunting him.

Why did she continue to sit here? She should have been back at base an hour ago, but she had this tugging feeling that she should remain, someone would need her. Those instincts had served her so well in the past, they had supplied the team with Mana, had kept Fury out of trouble so many times.. not to mention saving countless lives as a doctor. So many things that she should be doing, her responsibility nagged at her, so many things she was ignoring. Her heritage swung in a balance between the Japanese and the Native, her beliefs a mixture of them both, her legacy the gifts from her parents that left her apart and alone in the world of normalcy ... she almost jumped a foot in the air when a man coughed, practically at her elbow.

"Sorry girl, didn't mean to start ya." The gruff voice apologized. Raven looked up to see a man not much taller than herself in a flannel shirt and jeans glaring down at her. Perhaps not glaring, perhaps his weathered features and vast hair growth just made him look so. Obviously some sort of bodybuilder, his muscles were even more generous than Transmute's. She realized she was staring; it had been that kind of day.

"Can I help you, sir?" She tried to remain polite, she really did want to be alone, it was a thinking day. A day to consider all options, to see the past and plan the future. Yet, perhaps he was the reason she stayed here when she was long due elsewhere. Or, perhaps it was just the really good coffee.

The man gestured to the seat across from her "May I sit a spell? Think you're the person I wanna talk ta." Raven just shrugged, her thoughts long since shattered. He sat quickly and without a wasted movement, which raised him to martial artist in Raven's books even though he looked much more like a brawler. "Lookin' for someone, told ya might know where they are."

Raven sighed. "I will assist you if I can, sir." Why did people always refer everyone to her? Did she look like a verbal white pages?

"Call me Logan, ain't no sir. Mind if I smoke?" He held up a cigar. Raven shook her head, a smoker herself. Ironic really, a doctor being a smoker, but the effects didn't harm her due to her regeneration. "Talk about as much as I do, dontcha?"

That made Raven smile, it was not often she was called quiet. With Chris, Crystal and Kevan to compare to, she was probably one of the more talkative members of the Vancouver Vigilantes. "It is just an introspective day, that is all. Normally I talk so much one can not shut me up. Perhaps it is just your lucky day."

The man named Logan just 'hmph'd'. "Perhaps, perhaps not. When ya need info, best to find someone who likes to talk, eh?"

Raven's smile broadened a bit. She liked this man; he had a certain aura about him that tickled her fancy. "Well, I suppose it helps. I ask you this then, who referred you to me, and what is it you seek?"

"Boy by the name of Spit said if anyone knew what I wanted, 'twould be you.." Raven frowned slightly. Spit was one of the grey-area mutants of the city, a petty thief, a liar and not to be trusted any further than the average human could toss a city bus. For him to refer this stranger to her was not a good sign; obviously Spit was working some sort of trouble. "I'm lookin' for a man named Jerimiah Crowsfoot."

Raven did her best to keep her face straight, not to reveal a damn thing, but the sudden neutral expression revealed a lot to Logan. "And why do you search for this one?"

Logan leaned forward on the table "Got an old score to settle. He surfaced in my life a lil' while ago, and well, I came a'huntin'."

Raven growled something profane at him in Osage. "Look elsewhere, head hunter." She stood up, tossed some money to the cashier and was sitting on her 'bike before she realized she'd left her sketch book in the cafe. She cursed again and wrote it off. Throwing her helmet on, she revved the bike and drove off into the mid-day traffic.

Logan watched minorly amused, what had caused the girl to have such a reaction? Certain thing was though, he'd found a good contact, just a matter of tracking her down, and he had a perfect scent of her from her sketch book. He flipped through it, idly admiring the native artwork, rather surprised to see it mixed in with Japanese anime. He had recognized the words she spat at him, though not understanding them precisely, something about a goat, a splinter, and his father. Closing the book, he paid for his coffee and started his hunt for the frail.


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