[ It would usually be overwhelming, that rush of acknowledgement, but Clint welcomes it. Mind swimming under the too sudden, too deep connection between broodmates, the ever present tension keeping them from sinking further. Bellamy's hand catches at his shoulder, and Clint shifts, holds himself sure and stable, even though Bellamy's focus is all on the game.
He can't help it -- Clint laughs, easy and low, staying where he is. ]
I have a few.
[ Not many, but he isn't too bothered at all. Bellamy's thoughts flicker back, a sort of understanding easing between them, and Clint ducks his head in acknowledgement. ]
So who beat you? I bet we could knock 'em out in a round.
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He can't help it -- Clint laughs, easy and low, staying where he is. ]
I have a few.
[ Not many, but he isn't too bothered at all. Bellamy's thoughts flicker back, a sort of understanding easing between them, and Clint ducks his head in acknowledgement. ]
So who beat you? I bet we could knock 'em out in a round.
[ By we, he means I. ]