The man who would be known as the superhero named Wolverine was born as James Howlett in the mid 1880s in Alberta, Canada. He was the second and sickly child to Elizabeth and John Howlett Sr. His mother was ill and, in the early 1900s, a young Irish girl named Rose O'Hara was brought to the Howlett estate to be a friend and a caretaker to young James. Together they befriended a young boy named Dog, son of the grounds keeper, Thomas Logan. Dog tried to form a normal bond between the two, but due to his father’s resentment and drunken abuse, he grew to resent his station in life; so much so that one day he makes undue advances on Rose, which are reported by young James to his father.
This whole chain of events leads to Thomas Logan being sacked from his position as groundskeeper, following which he goes seeking for Elizabeth Howlett, trying to convince her to leave with him. This leads to an altercation that results in the death of John Howlett. The shock of seeing his father murdered in front of him leads to the manifestation of young James’ powers and he stabs Thomas with his newly drawn claws, also slashing Dog across the face before fainting. He and Rose flee the house and make their way through the harsh Canadian wilderness with James near-catatonic and Rose having to facilitate their transportation, while Dog tells the police that Rose was the killer.
They arrive at a mine where Rose gives false names, calling James incorrectly as “Logan.” The other workers dub the revived Logan “the wolverine” because of his penchant for tenaciously digging and begin to accept him as one of their own due to his incredible work ethic. What they don’t know is that by night, he runs in the wild with a pack of wolves that he is cowed the alpha of. Dog arrives one day, having survived his encounter years ago, still holding a massive grudge against Logan. Logan recognizes his erstwhile friend and accepts his challenge to a brawl to the death. Before Logan can kill Dog, however, Rose tries to pull him away and is inadvertently stabbed through the chest, killing her and leaving Logan to mourn alone.
Emma was smirking when he eventually pulled open the door. Draped against the frame elegantly and suggestively all at once, her ice blue eyes ran over his form before she arched a brow. “You scrub up well. Didn’t expect that.” She couldn’t help herself; giving him hell had become a game and she was finding it to be the best part of her day. But now that classes had resumed in earnest she knew it was time to throw in the towel. “I found something I thought you’d like.” Straightening, Emma held her hands up in mock surrender and motioned to a pocket of her skintight leggings just below the expanse of her bare stomach, eyes glittering as she dared him to reach down and grab it. No harm no foul, right? There was a small outline of a metallic box. On it was a French label and within, tucked snugly in tissue paper were five small cigars. Vanilla rouge apparently; she had no idea. She didn’t smoke them but she’d thought of him when she saw them. “I hope they’re to your liking.”
Funny how things eventually turned out. One day she's the queen of the Hellfire Club and doing surprisingly well for herself, then the next she'd had her eyes opened by none other than Phoenix and she's knocking on Xavier's door. A couple of weeks later and Emma is tutoring her own class in telepathy and psionics. It'd been quite the change but overall she was content. Except for one little thing. Or one person, so to speak. "Logan." Emma called out at his door after knocking on it. Arms folded and leaning against the doorframe, she rolled her eyes when he ignored it and knocked again. "I know you're in there. You're not exactly a quiet thinker." She smirked. "I have a gift for you."