They'd always been on the same side. They'd always been friends. She hadn't hit him hard enough for that, considering she hadn't hit him hard at all. And neither had he, which even Wanda had noticed. But even when she'd first called him to tell him about Ross showing up and the whole mess with the Accords, though he'd never planned on signing it, he could more than easily see her point and hadn't disagreed with her conclusions. Even with how things had escalated, she was the only one he hadn't been irritated with or just flat-out pissed off at. They just knew each other too well.
"You tried to dive down again, didn't you." Because of course she did. The only reason he hadn't was because he arrived in January, in the middle of a cold snap, and not getting hypothermia was a more pressing concern. Other people telling him of the multiple attempts to find any sort of passage down there had convinced him not to try it again for a long time. "The backpack? Yeah, even though it's pretty light on the 'survival' gear. There's some stuff here for that, and people are good about pitching together and helping out, so it's not as dire as you think it is."
Still pretty dire. But at least they had first aid kits and people willing to do what's needed to help others.
"Months now - since midwinter." Clint sighs as he looks up, checking the time by the setting sun - there's no calendars in the village, no way to know what date it is or even really what month, but the days seem roughly about equal with the nights now and so it's possible to make an educated guess as to the date and time. "You haven't eaten, right? Come on, it's about time for dinner, we can get something in you and I can explain while we walk. We don't know enough yet. We don't have ways of finding out enough. We can't get out of here and there's no technology for us to rip apart and spy on. It's... been a challenge."
Nat should know that tone: he's been keeping himself busy with projects and meeting people and trying to form some alliances. He's been trying not to think about home, and his family. Falling back into "agent" mode, which can still be very much a normal man, but focused on completing a job above all else so he can move on.
no subject
"You tried to dive down again, didn't you." Because of course she did. The only reason he hadn't was because he arrived in January, in the middle of a cold snap, and not getting hypothermia was a more pressing concern. Other people telling him of the multiple attempts to find any sort of passage down there had convinced him not to try it again for a long time. "The backpack? Yeah, even though it's pretty light on the 'survival' gear. There's some stuff here for that, and people are good about pitching together and helping out, so it's not as dire as you think it is."
Still pretty dire. But at least they had first aid kits and people willing to do what's needed to help others.
"Months now - since midwinter." Clint sighs as he looks up, checking the time by the setting sun - there's no calendars in the village, no way to know what date it is or even really what month, but the days seem roughly about equal with the nights now and so it's possible to make an educated guess as to the date and time. "You haven't eaten, right? Come on, it's about time for dinner, we can get something in you and I can explain while we walk. We don't know enough yet. We don't have ways of finding out enough. We can't get out of here and there's no technology for us to rip apart and spy on. It's... been a challenge."
Nat should know that tone: he's been keeping himself busy with projects and meeting people and trying to form some alliances. He's been trying not to think about home, and his family. Falling back into "agent" mode, which can still be very much a normal man, but focused on completing a job above all else so he can move on.