"It helps me. He needs taking down a peg," Will muttered. He scuffed his foot, watching Tuck divvy up the new things. He was glad to have it, although he wondered what the impetus for this was. Nottingham wasn't just nice on purpose.
He picked up a new pair of track pants, new and soft and not stinking of blood and BO, and tried not to look too grateful to have it. He held them up against his sore face where Nottingham had struck him.
He wasn't going to say Tuck was right, but he was going to consider his options here, at any rate.