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His eyes seemed to tear away from the horizon and the boats once the woman had said she would be right back. In actuality, he was hopeful that she wouldn't return. Enough innocent blood had been shed during this forsaken war. Soldiers knew what they were signing up for when it come to war, but this Diana was not a soldier. At least, he didn't believe with the way she had appeared to be a soldier.

Though she had made her return just before the boats had washed up on the beaches, his eyes turned towards her. “I can't tell you the exact reason they are after me, I'm on a classified mission, but how do you not know about the war?” Logan seemed to actually look sorrowful for a solitary moment. Had he brought this war to a place that had been completely cut off from it? His eyes hardened when he heard the first boat land.

Then he had noticed the sword and the way she was raising it. To say that he was more than a little confused was beyond him, but now was not the time to discuss her choice of weaponry. Logan had already closed the distance between him and some of the soldiers that had chosen their own fate. Terrorized screams started to echo over the battlefield as he felt his bones enter the chest of one man, before he twist around to use the man a shield for the bullets that were spray towards him.

Blood seemed to soak over him as he charged himself forward, the body still being used as a personal shield. His second set of claws on his other hand tore through another unknowing person that didn't seem to understand what exactly they were fighting at this point. Worry and panic started to spread as they watched a single man and woman starting to rip through their ranks, even if they had been outnumbered.

Time seemed to slow around Logan as he took notice of Diana. She had such a determined look crossing her face. She had a more noble look to her than any other person he had ever met, and something about her made him feel like she would have his back. He couldn't place his finger on why just looking at her caused that sense to wash over him, but it had, and now she needed him to watch her back.

Pushing the dead soldier off his claws, he felt his legs spring into action, as he moved in a far more animalistic way, one that reminded him of his half-brother, as he dove in front of the bullet meant for her, taking the shot in his chest. Now the anger was finally released as he felt his claws being drove into the man that had aimed the shot at her, before finally taking an actual weapon off the ground and started to use it instead, so he could better cover the other warrior on the battlefield that he called an ally, for the time being.