( it doesn't quite remind clint of himself — he'd been younger, a little over half gorgug's age, and he'd jumped into being a volunteer for the swordmaster's show without a second thought because it was better than shovelling elephant shit, but there's a thread of similarity there. it's in the want and the desire to prove oneself, and that— clint's very familiar with that.

clint has a soft spot for that. )

I don't have many samples, not here, ( he admits, rolling the arrow against the table. it's a distracted action, born of clint's need to do something with his hands more than it is anything else. ) No sporting goods store, no easy template to crib off without asking Aurora for help. ( which, to be fair, is easy enough to do — present it as "I've been thinking about what I need to be effective in the missions", but— mm.

he picks the arrow up, taps it mindlessly against his chin. it's the rest of it. the mechanics of it all. ) I can give you some of my duds. ( the ones that don't work, the net arrows that don't retract, the boomerang arrows that don't boomerang. not ideal, but it is what it is. )