Clint is not Legolas (imnotlegolas) wrote in wariscoming, @ 2013-01-24 21:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | clint barton/hawkeye, snow white/mary margaret |
Who: Clint and Snow
What: Doing a little archery practice
Where: Range at Avenger Warehouse
When: Evening of the 24
Status: In Progress
Rating: Should be on the low side, will update if needed.
Smiling some as Snow agreed to some archery, Clint stood from the laptop and grabbed his bow. He paused to get his archery glove and his bracer before he headed down to the warehouse range. Bruce's leaving had upset the warehouse residents. A fool could see it. The doctor was a good man and an even better friend. And Clint knew that there were others who didn't live in the warehouse that missed the doctor too. Like Snow. He didn't ask or care about what relationship the two of them had had. So long as they were happy. That's what counted, right?
Arriving at the range, he pulled out one of the spar bows he had made (in case Snow didn't have one) and grabbed two full quivers of arrows. Setting them and his own archery things at one end, he moved down the range and began setting up the targets so that they were spaced differently out for them to practice with. As he set everything up, his mind drifted to what he had seen earlier that day on the boards. The boy talking strangely and more than that, Loki's strange reaction to him. It unsettled Clint. More than that, something about the way the boy talked reminded him of someone who had been here before. The question was who? There had been a few unpleasant people he'd dealt with since coming here and he was trying to remember who it was.
He was growing unsettled by Loki's reactions. Though perhaps unsettled was too light a term. Running a hand through his hair, he let a slow breath out. It didn't matter though. He had friends here and no matter what, he'd find out who the boy was and would deal with whatever happened along the way with Natasha. He wasn't going to let her go through the same pain he went through when she died, however briefly.
Pushing those thoughts away, he moved back to the quivers and bows and picked up his bracer and slid it on his right arm. He then grabbed his archery glove and slid is three fingers into the leather before fastening the wrist cuff closed. Moving over to a cabinet, he pulled another archery glove out in case Snow needed it as well as a second bracer. He just hoped they would fit her arms given they were smaller than his.