Clint Barton || Hawkeye (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
avenging_archer) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
eswareinmal2012-02-16 04:42 pm
avenging_archer) wrote in eswareinmal2012-02-16 04:42 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Characters: Clint Barton & Whoever else wants in on the madness.!
Open? Open to whomever
Where: On the road South of town
When: Day 9 mid-morning
What: A very confused Hawkeye is seeking some answers about just where the hell he is.
Warnings: Potential naughty language and grumpiness.
The sandy haired man who was riding up the road towards south gate had a watchful look on his face. His seat was excellent and obviously knew his way around the horse judging by the loose, one-handed grip he had on the reins as the black steed loped towards the town. In his other hand, he held the bow with an arrow notched and held at the ready just to be safe. Clint wasn’t the type to shoot first and ask questions later but after the morning he had had, he definitely felt like taking the ‘better safe than sorry’ approach.
Tugging lightly on the reins, Hawkeye pulled the stallion to a stop and surveyed the bridge ahead carefully. “Well, boy, should we see if they’re friendly?” Clint asked, musing out loud more than anything else. One of the horse’s ears flicked back at him before prickling one again.
“Right, well, let’s hope they don’t shoot us full of holes.” Not wanting to be viewed as hostile, he dropped the reins long enough to slip the arrow from the bow-string and into the quiver tied to the side of his saddle. Nudging his mount forward once again, they set out at a measured walk towards the city gates.
Open? Open to whomever
Where: On the road South of town
When: Day 9 mid-morning
What: A very confused Hawkeye is seeking some answers about just where the hell he is.
Warnings: Potential naughty language and grumpiness.
The sandy haired man who was riding up the road towards south gate had a watchful look on his face. His seat was excellent and obviously knew his way around the horse judging by the loose, one-handed grip he had on the reins as the black steed loped towards the town. In his other hand, he held the bow with an arrow notched and held at the ready just to be safe. Clint wasn’t the type to shoot first and ask questions later but after the morning he had had, he definitely felt like taking the ‘better safe than sorry’ approach.
Tugging lightly on the reins, Hawkeye pulled the stallion to a stop and surveyed the bridge ahead carefully. “Well, boy, should we see if they’re friendly?” Clint asked, musing out loud more than anything else. One of the horse’s ears flicked back at him before prickling one again.
“Right, well, let’s hope they don’t shoot us full of holes.” Not wanting to be viewed as hostile, he dropped the reins long enough to slip the arrow from the bow-string and into the quiver tied to the side of his saddle. Nudging his mount forward once again, they set out at a measured walk towards the city gates.
no subject
Automatically he scanned the crowd, not finding any sign of danger or that this was a trick of some kind. This probably would be easier if it was.
"Every time I try to dig up more intel, I get the same facts over and over. Everyone blames a book for bringing us here and we can't go back until someone stops the thorns." He grimaced, frustrated by the lack of information. "And no one seems to know how to stop them."