[ To be fair, Clint just really has a bad habit of gathering up sad, trauma kids under his wing. It's like a sixth sense, or maybe, simply his own vaguely-inconvenient-in-the-moment-but-great-in-the-end superpower. The hunger settles, tacky against his tongue, even as she straightens and firms her answer and -- well, it's good enough. He's not going to lecture her. Either she knows her limits, or she doesn't, but she's gotta figure that shit out for herself. Instead, he nods a bit, understanding gleaming soft and silver in the threads of his mind. ]
(Wasn't doubtin' it, just checking in.)
[ And he was, really. Clint...knows of her, through Sam. But he's never truly reached out. If she's testing herself among these crowds though, he doesn't have an issue with being her back up. So, an offering. ]
(If you don't mind company, I was hoping to scope out some of the crowds and it'll be easier with another.)
waggles brows at
( Wasn't doubtin' it, just checking in. )
[ And he was, really. Clint...knows of her, through Sam. But he's never truly reached out. If she's testing herself among these crowds though, he doesn't have an issue with being her back up. So, an offering. ]
( If you don't mind company, I was hoping to scope out some of the crowds and it'll be easier with another. )