"Don't flatter yerself, I got a memory like a sieve," he grumbles because frankly being caught unaware makes him cranky.

The shifting of light and the sounds of movement are met with a focused glare from Logan, at least until he realizes what his new doctor is prescribing.

"Thanks," he mumbles. With a hum of appreciation he takes the bottle, takes a whiff and takes a drink. Where it causes the most discomfort is a decent way of figuring out what's not quite grown back yet.

"Some of'em," he offers, but for now he's less interested in the people here and whatever's been done with them then he is Bruce. Especially as his eyes start to register all the finer details. The outfit. The frown. "This is startin' to feel like an interrogation. What're you? Alliance?"