#[ p: eddie brock o1 ]

[codenamehavkeye]

@edline Where: The Sokovian countryside; deep in the woods. When: Present-day.

More people always meant more mouths to feed. Everyone always seemed to forget that part of working in impractically enormous teams.

Not that Clint was complaining. It gave him an opportunity to go outside and stay there, enjoy the sunshine and fresh air. The Mousehole was great for what it was, but Clint couldn’t help but feel that it was exactly as its name implied—cramped. Especially after the DC riots that had everyone filtering in. Full of other bodies, of expectations, of opinions. Loud personalities that would begin to clash any day. 

But until that happened, Clint could enjoy the outside world. For all its flaws, most of which they’d just exacerbated with the whole Ultron spectacle, parts of Sokovia were beautiful. And Clint could fulfill his role to perfection by enjoying those parts when he went out hunting in the woods. A bag of squirrels and rabbits were at his hip, but his eyes were on the real prize: a hundred-fifty pound buck he’d been tracking for miles, sitting downwind of him and rubbing its antlers up against a nearby tree. That’d last them a while. Maybe some of it would be dried and stored for the winter. A good find for anyone.

Perfect. Clint took a silent breath and strung his bow, eyes unwavering from his target—

Crack. The sound of footsteps seemed to echo in the clearing between Clint and the buck, leaved and twigs merrily crackling and snapping, and the buck skittered away. 

Clint swore, lowering his bow.

“Hey,” he snapped, sharp, as he stepped out of the underbrush. His Sokovian was accented, but understandable. Especially, he figured, the unimpressed tone. “Could you walk any louder? I’ve been tracking that buck for an hour!”