A Boy and His God

[fourteennames]

Who: Thor Odinson and Clint 'Hawkeye' Barton
Where: In the City.
When: Daylight hours- never mind precisely when...
What: The unfortunate Hawkeye learns to mind his tongue.

Comments

[fourteennames]

"Ah, the canines."

The laughter now was genuine; a little sheepish, a slight wistful. "I had found one such pup on the streets, though it seemed the Night Huntress and the Man of Iron were opposed to the idea of the beast remaining in my custody. He has since been inured by the kind proprietors of the 'animal shelter'."

Never mind the creature called Lord Whiskers.

Never mind Loki.

Who had, he recalled, made mention of a smaller animal as 'acceptable'. And if he was to keep the renegade returning to the tower of his own will (far better than to constantly, ineffectually restrain him), he had to feed his brother's perception of control. Far better it be Loki who believed himself to influence Thor's decisions to his preferences.

And should his brother ever stray for farther or for longer than acceptable-

"Thou art correct, Master Archer! Surely they would have no qualms with one such companion of a quieter, gentler disposition. Come!"

Thor stood quickly, clapping a large hand down on Clint's shoulder. "We shall acquire an acceptable canine for our abode."

[agenthawk]

Clint had to stop his reflex of turning around and stabbing Thor with one of the arrows he currently held, it was far too many years of training that had caused him to have that reaction, and his quick mental reminder that Thor was his teammate that stopped him. Only when he'd calmed down a bit had Thor's last words sunk in.

"Wait. What?" He questioned as he was suddenly dragged from his place on the roof.

[fourteennames]

"A companion, a dog. We shall acquire one."

Thor assumed perhaps the Archer had been too absorbed in his task to fully grasp what it was that had been said to him. Having been guilty of such an act himself many times over, he took the confusion in stride and explained in fuller detail the journey now to be taken to bring to Stark's tower a guardian of such reliability and loyalty as to placate the unease all men (and women) of valor residing within it often felt.

"-which means we shall begin at the shelter of animals, do you not agree? I believe the game keepers there would be most wise in their recommendations."

He was guiding Clint most enthusiastically into the elevator, not so overcome by shadow or at least, glad of the distraction happened upon. "A small creature. Lady Romanova and the Man of Iron are not so fond of the larger beasts; a pity, but a compromise willingly made."

[agenthawk]

Clint had a few moments to blink before he was quickly and unceremoniously dragged from his place of the roof, with an arrow still in one hand and the rest in his quiver leaning against the end of the roof. Something he was none to pleased about. His weapons didn't exactly come back to him with just a thought like someone's. He gave the other a look while trying to get him to let go, though the Demi-god seemed to be paying little to no attention.

He had to wonder when exactly he'd agreed to a shopping trip.

"Do you even know where the animal shelter is? Or how to take care of a dog for that matter?" He asked in an attempt to stop this 'quest' before it could come to full throttle.