He's got half a mind to just leave. Go back where he's staying and fix himself up and get some grub and hole up for the night and--
--get hounded by the fighty guy, apparently. Clint rolls his eyes and plays catchup to walk more or less alongside. "Maybe you're the one that picked a fight, man." Or maybe he's not. Maybe Clint picked it. Hard to say at this point. But he hadn't run away from it, which in hindsight would've been smarter. But then he'd have pent up energy and not a little bit of anger bubbling up and nowhere to put all that except, inevitably, somewhere stupid. "But thanks." For apparently needed information about fighting or not fighting in the city. And offering to clean his stupid fuck face. There's an implication of food there, too. Though he's not looking to get greedy or make assumptions about strangers.
He actually puts out his hand to shake like they're really getting introduced properly for the first time, like a couple fists and elbows weren't enough. "'m Clint."
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--get hounded by the fighty guy, apparently. Clint rolls his eyes and plays catchup to walk more or less alongside. "Maybe you're the one that picked a fight, man." Or maybe he's not. Maybe Clint picked it. Hard to say at this point. But he hadn't run away from it, which in hindsight would've been smarter. But then he'd have pent up energy and not a little bit of anger bubbling up and nowhere to put all that except, inevitably, somewhere stupid. "But thanks." For apparently needed information about fighting or not fighting in the city. And offering to clean his stupid fuck face. There's an implication of food there, too. Though he's not looking to get greedy or make assumptions about strangers.
He actually puts out his hand to shake like they're really getting introduced properly for the first time, like a couple fists and elbows weren't enough. "'m Clint."