"Clone...processing?" Clone was not a word with which he was familiar, and he shook his head to better illustrate that fact. "I can process 'weird'. I've heard stranger, even."

When one has a friend who can punch a hole in reality by wiggling her fingers, it changes one's perspective. He follows Tony's hand wave and gladly finds a seat by the fire, the warmth already seeping into his face. A blessing, that.

His eyebrows raise at the name. "Bull?" The hopeful lilt in his voice is replaced quickly by one of doubt. It couldn't possibly-

"The Iron Bull? Massive hulk of a man, grey of skin, rather large horns and blatant disregard for shirts?"