A hit to the face is, like so much blunt force, something Logan can take even if his head snaps back a fraction beneath the jarring blow. No squelch of breaking cheekbone and any broken skin is gone in the time it takes to blink a few times, and he has enough streaks and smears of blood from ex-wounds for measure of damage to be mostly indistinguishable.

Logan's arm comes up like he intends to bring three claws down hard enough to find something critical between neck and shoulder, but he staggers forward at attack from behind. He turns, swift, keeping a semblance of more martial trajectories in his movements as opposed to wildly animal. He wants them to second guess coming at him.

But it's hard to intimidate the Militia. Even Wolverine.