@darkknxghts
It was starting to get cold. The beginning of fall coming in quick, but there was still a few weeks where it’d be warm enough to shoot up on the rooftop. He’d dragged out all his old targets, brushed the dust off them, and pulled his arrows out. Seven targets stretched across one side of the roof. Seven arrows sunk into the bullseyes, one after the other. Clint still had it. It still felt right in his hands. Like he’d stepped back in time a few years. God, if only.
He made X’s across the targets. Then surrounded them in squares. Then just for good measure, he fired another arrow into the bullseyes, just slightly below the first. He set the bow down and went to collect the arrows, and he’d just yanked out the first one when he heard the rustle of a cloak behind him.
“Sorry if you were planning on sneaking up on me,” he said, turning his head. He zeroed in on the cloaked figure hunched in the shadows. “I’ve got my hearing aids in. Turned ‘em up pretty high so I could hear when Dog Cops comes on downstairs.” He twirled the arrow in his hands, wondering what the Batman wanted with him. “You’re a long way from Gotham, Bats. Come all this way just for me?”
