Clint wasn't sure why he'd stayed up in the tree when Maryanne came along, he'd been on his nightly parol and found the lamp sitting on the wall pulling it and himself up in to a nearby tree to think without worrying of anyone seeing him. He was almost certain he knew what it was but hadn't decided if he was going to rub it or not. He didn't even know what he'd wish for-save the obvious one. He'd only been there a short while before Maryanne came along and, instead of getting back down as soon as he saw her like he should have, he'd stayed there, watching and then listening to her sing. Definitely and absolutely not feeling his chest go a little tight as he listened to the words of her song.
But when he heard what came after, the muffled sounds of crying, he knew he couldn't just sit there. Part of him wanted to run away, he could do it easy enough-drop down one branch, slide across to the next tree, up one branch, swing to the right, down the next tree and through to the road on the side of the park. But he couldn't do that either. As hard as he tried to hide it, Clint was only human and a (secretly) sensitive one at that. And Maryanne had made an impression on him. He set the lamp carefully in the crook of a branch close to the bottom of the tree and carefully dropped down himself. He was wearing his costume, out of habit more than anything, but he pulled off his mask, lifted his bow and quiver from his back and set all of them at the base of the tree, and took the few steps he needed to to reach Maryanne.
"Hey." he whispered softly, a gentle hand on her shoulder.