an arrow is pointed ( a perfect shot ) and francis frowns , hard ; the soot patterning his face caused by the everyday living in a dump becoming a contra to the true features of his pale ( all too skinny ) expression though francis tries not to think too much of his complexion , not when there are other pressing matters at hand. like , say , an unknown intruder just coming out of nowhere while the ultron war was raging . seventeen francis may be , but inexperience he is not . ( he’s carried too many deaths now upon his shoulders ; it should break him , with how much guilt he breathes in everyday , but there he is ——— still standing . and how is he still doing that ? he doesn’t know , he doesn’t — ) and francis doesn’t miss a beat ,