Updated version.

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Walking through the mountainside town, Logan, or Wolverine as some call him, strides past the many vendors advertising various goods. Logan is determined to buy what he came for and leave immediately. As always, it is obvious that he did not bother to shave that morning nor comb his wild, dark hair. He is dressed in a worn, dark-brown cotton shirt, tough boots and black pants that hug his muscular legs. The burly man pushes though the crowds, scanning the lines of the vendors. After much searching, he finds exactly what he is looking for. Slaves.

Recently, the time had finally came when Wolverine's house slave, after many years of service, passed away. His new mission is to find a new female to serve him for as long as she lives. The younger, the better. Wolverine can be quite territorial when it comes to his possessions. Once he has something, it is his for all eternity and he never gives it up. Thus, a new slave will need to be able to serve for quite a long time. Wolverine absolutely detests change, along with the prospect of training new slaves.

A bald, pot-bellied merchant in a greasy shirt, greets him.

"Ah, sir. What brings you here? Lookin' for new merchandise?" The merchant gives Logan a knowing smile at the last word.

Logan ignores the merchant's sly tone. "I suppose you can say that. I need a new... worker. Female."

"Hmm." The merchant grins wickedly. "You lookin' for a young'un or an older lass who knows her place?"

"Youngest you got," Logan growls, not liking the stench of this place. He struggles to suppress the urge to cover his nose, to mask out the near-unbearable stink of so many bodies being kept in one spot without proper hygiene.

The merchant recoils at Logan's gruffness. He immediately straightens his greasy shirt and stiffly gestures Logan to follow him. "Alright. Come on over then. I got a few gals you can take a look at."

The merchant leads Logan to the far wall. Drooped against the wall are three girls in chains. The girls have their heads hanging low, their emaciated bodies indicating the merchant's neglect and the malnutrition settling in. One girl in particular has curled herself in the corner, not moving.

This wisp of a girl catches Logan's eye, due to the beautiful platinum streaks flowing amid her dirt-darkened hair. Clothed in only a long, flannel, torn-up smock, the girl attempts to stretch down what little she has, covering as much as she can of herself.

Logan instantly makes his decision. "I'll take that one," he tells the merchant, pointing at the girl with platinum streaks.

The merchant raises an eyebrow. "You wouldn't want that one, sir. This one - she's weak and I don't think she can handle you. Plus she's a mutant. Somethin's wrong with her skin."

Logan regards the merchant with a steely gaze. "How much?" he curtly asks.

"You can take her for one hundred. Been with me for three years but nobody wants a mutie."

"Here." Logan hands over the money to the merchant.

"Slave!" The merchant hollers as he lumbers toward the girl. She whimpers as if expecting abuse, pushing herself deeper into the corner, trying to disappear.

Logan watches from behind as the merchant yanks the girl's knotted hair, raising her to her feet. The girl looks to be about 15 years old, thin and frail with the scent of fear radiating from her in waves. The merchant unchains her from the pole, but leaves the bindings that connect her hands and feet together.

The merchant leans in close to the girl's ear, his hot breath making her more uncomfortable than before.

"Good news, slave," the merchant whispers to the girl, unaware that Logan can hear his every word. "You have a new master now and I can tell he'll be much crueler than me." The thought sending chills down the girl's bony spine.

With a firm grip on her hair, the merchant drags the girl towards Logan. The girl keeps her head down, a curtain of tangled hair concealing her bruised face.

"Have fun, slave." Chuckling, the merchant practically shoves the girl into Logan's grasp. "Oh, and be careful with her skin. It can kill. She can control it, though she hasn't dared to use it after that last good beating. Still, be careful."

Logan grunts and turns to leave with the small girl. His thick, muscular hands grips her flannel-covered arm that contains almost no muscle, simply skin and bone.

"C'mon girl." Wolverine says, pulling her with him, as if her feet refuse to cooperate. Whether from weakness or some sort of reluctance, Wolverine drags her to the horses. However, the girl continues to resist. Slightly annoyed, he decides to talk to her now before any issues occur on the 15-mile return trip.

Towering a foot above her head, Logan pulls her forward. He lightly brushes her hair back, wanting to see take a better look at his new slave. The girl flinches. Underneath the knotted, matted hair, Logan is better able to see the girl's destitute physical state. Countless bruises mar her bony, gaunt yet delicate form. Her entire body is covered with grime and dirt. He tries not to show his shock when he catches sight of her ribs visible beneath her thin flannel rags.

"Kid, look at me."

The young girl is startled by the command. However, past experiences told that looking at her owners in the eyes will only ever brought her trouble. She disobeys and keeps her head down.

"Kid, look at me," Logan orders, getting more irritated by the second. "Now!"

The girl slowly raises her eyes to meet the man's face. With his wild dark hair spiking up crazily, covering much of his cheeks and deep hazel eyes, he is by far the scariest man she has ever seen. The girl has no doubt that he can probably kill her any time he wishes. She clings to the hope that he won't be as cruel as he looks.

"We gotta ride 15 miles and walk some. Better get your act together kid 'cause I ain't dealing with the shit you're giving me right now. Got that?"

"Y-Y-Yes, Master," she says tremulously. She hopes her reply will prevent a possible beating. Judging by the way her new owner's intimidating appearance, he probably won't hesitate to lay a hand on her.

"Good. Now get on." The man motions toward a beautiful white horse standing next to a very large black stallion. Both must be his.

With much hesitation, the girl moves, unable to mount the horse due to her weakness. Logan notices her reluctance once again and figures she isn't strong enough to mount the horse herself.

Logan steps up behind her. He can smell the girl's fear hitching up a notch but he ignores it. Logan lifts her by the waist and onto the horse. The task isn't much. The girl is very light, probably only 100 pounds.

I'll fix that up soon, Wolverine thinks. This girl will be his to protect. He will not fail. The Wolverine inside him is not happy about the she was treated before and will not tolerate that kind of treatment under his care. His mind is howling with rage, itching to go back and kill the merchant. Honestly, Logan does not intend to seem blunt and uncaring - it's just how he is. There is no changing that. Soon she will learn that there is nothing to fear.

The girl calms down when she realizes she is seated upon the horse.

Wolverine mounts the larger stallion and takes the lead. He pulls along the smaller, pearl-white horse carrying his new slave.

The girl merely sits quietly, her head down again. She watches the terrain change as they ascend the mountains of Alberta. Eventually, the terrain becomes very rocky. Up ahead of them is a steep, uphill climb that cannot be trod upon by horse.

Wolverine steps down from his horse. He has traveled this route many times before and he knows they will have to walk the next couple of miles. However, he unsure if the girl can make it.

"We walk from here. C'mon kid."

Logan reaches up and grasps the thin girl by her smock. He gently sets her back on the ground, gently waiting for her to regain her footing.

Taking both horses, the burly man takes control of the reins. With his large muscular arms bulging, he drags the horses up the mountain. The small girl does her best to keep up behind him, her chains limiting her movement. She avoids thinking about the hunger eating away at her stomach or how her thin smock does nothing to protect her from the cold air that chills her to the bone. Instead she wonders how her new master is able to seem unaffected by the extreme cold and terrain.

Finally, after a couple more miles, the girl catches sight of a farm estate that contains three large fields and a massive log cabin. Off to the left, she sees a set of buildings that resemble barracks, possibly housing for other slaves. To the right side, there are stables for the horses.

As they approach the main cabin, the girl spots a young-looking, lanky but fit, brown-haired man wearing odd dark-tinted spectacles. She assumes he is one of Logan's slaves for he comes out to greet her new master.

"Hello, sir," the young man says pleasantly. "Please let me take the horses."

Logan grunts and transfers the reins to the young man. The young man walks away with the horses, guiding them toward the stables.

Logan looks at the girl. "Follow me," he tells her brusquely.

He is very commanding, the girl thinks, he is not the type of man that bodes argument.

She follows him as he walks toward a large cabin. Her master opens the door, allowing her to enter. Then he quickly closes it, keeping out the chill of the mountain air.

Once Logan enters the room, he makes a sharp left, striding into what appears to be the kitchen area. He simply sits on an old wooden chair, its legs creaking under the pressure of his weight. Logan removes his shoes, stands up and goes off to heat a pot of water.

The girl's scent fills the room. It's like nothing he has ever smelled before. Despite her filthy state, an uncanny aura of purity emanates from her body. The Wolverine inside Logan can sense that this girl is different. She will be more than just his housekeeper, just like her predecessor. Logan can feel the Wolverine inside wanting out, wanting to take the girl. But he can't. He must cage him. The girl is too young.

So I am updating and fixing a couple things on my stories then I will move on.