The knowledge of Wolverine's true nature – the metallic claws, the incredible healing, the deep-seated weariness and feral anger Anya had observed – forced Elias to rethink his entire approach. Brute force was out. A minimal, token empowerment to trigger the Prime Conduit protocol still seemed the most direct route to mirroring those abilities, but how to deliver it to a creature this dangerous without being torn to shreds?
Thomas MacIntyre and Joe Tomah arrived at Lac Perdu the following day, having traveled by train and then by hired wagon. Thomas, solid and reassuring in his Barbarian-enhanced presence, listened intently as Elias, in the privacy of the cabin, finally revealed the true nature of their quarry. He didn't mention "mutant" or "Prime Conduit," but described a man with unnatural healing and formidable natural weaponry, a legend made real.
Thomas's stoic expression barely flickered, but his eyes, usually so calm, held a new respect for the danger involved. "Sounds like more than just a wild man, Mr. Thorne. Sounds like something… else."
Joe Tomah, a man whose Ojibwe heritage was etched into his weathered face and quiet, observant eyes, listened with an even deeper stillness. When Elias finished, Joe nodded slowly. "There are stories among my people," he said, his voice soft but resonant, "of spirits that walk in human form, tied to the land, possessing powers beyond understanding. Some are guardians. Some… are wounds given flesh. This 'Wolverine' sounds like the latter."
Elias decided to leverage Joe Tomah's unique expertise. "Joe," he said, "Anya's observations suggest he's solitary, relies on natural camouflage, and has routines. What would be the quietest way to approach such an individual's territory, to observe him at closer range without triggering his senses?"
Joe considered this, his gaze distant. "The wind is key. And scent. He will smell you long before he sees you, if he is like the animals. Move slow. No sudden sounds. Let the forest absorb you. An offering might work, if he is truly desperate or if some part of him still remembers human custom. But if he is more beast than man… even an offering could be seen as a threat, a challenge to his territory."
This gave Elias an idea. A modification of the 'offering' approach.
"Anya," Elias turned to her. "The snare lines you observed. Were they well-maintained? Did he seem to rely on them heavily for food?"
Anya nodded. "Yes, sir. They were expertly placed, checked daily. He took rabbits, mostly. Sometimes grouse."
"What if," Elias mused, "those snare lines suddenly became… unproductive? What if, over several days, his primary food source dwindled due to some 'unforeseen natural circumstance'?"
Thomas frowned. "You mean… sabotage his food supply, sir?"
"Subtly," Elias clarified. "Not destroy the snares, but ensure they come up empty. Perhaps introduce a competing, more effective predator in the area – metaphorically speaking. If he grows hungry, more desperate, he might become less cautious, perhaps even venture further from his lair, or be more receptive to an unexpected 'gift' of food left for him."
It was a cruel tactic, starving out an already beleaguered creature, but Elias was operating on a level where conventional morality was a luxury he couldn't afford when pursuing such a monumental prize. This Wolverine was a force of nature, and sometimes, nature had to be prodded, redirected.
He decided against using any of his empowered agents for this initial stage of "food denial." Thomas was too overtly powerful, his scent and presence likely too disruptive. Anya was an observer, not a woodsman. Mickey was entirely out of his depth. Joe Tomah, however, was perfect.
"Joe," Elias said, "could you, with utmost stealth, disrupt his hunting grounds for a few days? Scare off the local game from his usual snares, without leaving any obvious human trace? Make it seem like a shift in animal patterns, a natural scarcity."
Joe met Elias's gaze, his own unreadable. "I can make the forest seem empty for him, yes. The animals will listen if you know how to speak their fear." There was no judgment in his voice, just a statement of capability. This man was more than just a guide; he was a part of the wilderness itself.
So, for the next three days, Joe Tomah became a ghost in Wolverine's valley. Elias, Thomas, and Anya remained at the Lac Perdu lodge, receiving brief, coded updates via a pre-arranged signal system Joe employed using bird calls and specific arrangements of stones at a drop point. Joe moved like smoke, using his ancestral knowledge to gently haze game away from Wolverine's snares, to create an aura of subtle disturbance that only the prey animals would sense, making them wary and scarce. He left no tracks an ordinary man could find, his scent masked by pine needles and damp earth.
Anya, making one more high-altitude "photography" flight (with the same discreet pilot, now well-compensated for his continued incuriosity), observed the subtle changes. Wolverine, his movements now edged with a sharper frustration, checked his empty snares with growing agitation. He ranged further, his hunts less successful. The faint plume of smoke from his fissure-cave grew weaker, suggesting he was conserving fuel, perhaps rationing cooked food. He was indeed growing hungrier, more gaunt. The weariness in his posture deepened, but the feral anger in his eyes, when she caught rare glimpses, seemed to intensify. He was a cornered, hungry animal.
On the fourth day, Elias decided it was time for the "offering."
He wouldn't go himself. He wouldn't send Thomas yet. This needed the softest touch. He would use Anya, not for her Archer skills, but for her non-threatening female presence and her proven ability to remain calm under pressure. And Joe Tomah would be her unseen guide and protector, a silent shadow in the woods.
"Anya," Elias instructed, "Joe will guide you as close as is safe to the perimeter of Wolverine's known territory. You will carry this." He indicated a freshly killed deer, procured by Joe from a considerable distance away, ensuring it was untainted by their immediate presence. "Leave it in a conspicuous place on one of his regular trails, somewhere he's certain to find it. No message. No attempt at contact. Just the offering. Then you withdraw, immediately. Joe will ensure your safety."
Anya, her face pale but resolute, nodded. She understood the immense risk. This was far beyond anything she'd signed up for when sketching portraits in Marché Bonsecours. But her loyalty to Elias, forged by his trust and the incredible power he'd given her, was strong. And a part of her, the artist and the observer, was profoundly, if terrifyingly, compelled by this encounter with something so primal.
The System confirmed her loyalty was still high, [92% (Respect, Indebtedness, Shared Purpose)]. That was reassuring.
Later that day, Joe and Anya set out, the deer slung between them on a sturdy pole. They moved through the wilderness with a silence that was almost preternatural, Joe leading, Anya following his every step. Elias and Thomas waited at Lac Perdu, the tension in their small cabin thick enough to cut with a knife.
Hours passed. The sun began to dip towards the horizon.
Finally, just as full darkness threatened, Joe Tomah returned to the lodge, alone. He was moving with his usual quiet grace, but there was a new tension in his shoulders.
"Where's Anya?" Elias demanded, his voice sharp.
"She is safe," Joe said calmly. "Waiting at the agreed fallback point. The offering was made." He paused, his dark eyes holding Elias's. "He came."
"Wolverine?" Thomas asked, stepping forward.
Joe nodded. "We were concealed, downwind. He approached the deer like a starving wolf. But cautious. He circled it many times. Sniffed the air. His senses… they are beyond anything I have known. He knew something was different, even though we left no scent a human could detect."
"Did he take the deer?" Elias pressed.
"Yes," Joe said. "He… he tore into it. With his hands. And… those claws you spoke of." A flicker of something – awe, or perhaps primal fear – crossed Joe's stoic face. "He did not look up. He did not look for who left it. He just… ate. Like an animal that has not eaten in many days. Then, he dragged the rest of the carcass back towards his cave."
Joe looked directly at Elias. "But before he took the deer, as he circled it, he stopped. He looked directly towards where Anya and I were hidden, even though the wind was in our favor, and we were many, many paces away, deep in shadow. He could not have seen us. He could not have smelled us. But he knew."
Joe Tomah took a deep breath. "And then… he howled. Not like a wolf. Not like any animal. It was… a sound of pure pain. Of unending rage. It echoed through the entire valley. The birds went silent for a long time after."
Elias felt a chill despite the cabin's warmth. They had poked a wounded, starving god. The offering had been accepted, but the creature was aware, and its pain was a tangible force in the wilderness. The next step, the empowerment attempt, would be walking directly into that storm.