Catching a goat with the help of a friend in clear weather was hard enough. Sam was not sure he was going to be able to wrangle many of these goats. The other disadvantage was, of course, he had his injury to deal with. A sprained wrist was going to make goat wrangling all the more difficult. He could even hear Peggy getting on to him already. Scolding him for risking his injury for the sake of some goats.

But, Sam had to help. He'd heard her cry and he couldn't just ignore that. What kind of Avenger would he be in that sense? He rushes back into the police station-turned-barn and snags some rope. Maybe he can lasso one or two and bring them back in. He starts tying a knot, pressed up against the building to avoid being pelted with hail. When its ready he peers back out into the storm and dark -- squinting to see movement. "Got it!" He calls out to her before sprinting out after the goat with his lasso in hand.

Sam's come a long way from his first goat encounter--having capture one of his own he frequents this place and has gotten better and wrangling the darn things. It takes some doing, given his handicaps, but he manages to rope one, pulling it down.