swill: poppyapples.dw (ʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ᴏʀ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ)
Benjamin F. "Hawkeye" Pierce ([personal profile] swill) wrote in [community profile] thearena 2013-11-24 01:59 am (UTC)

She must think he was no better at following instructions than a rowdy school boy. And she'd be right, but Hawkeye would think he was maybe more worried about preserving his life than any teenage boy he knew. He knew his life wasn't the only one riding on his staying alive, no matter where he was. Not that knowledge on how to set a broken arm would make him invisible to anyone that may have a bow.

He gives Holiday a final look see. Pulls a face and waggles his eyebrows suggestively and slips away until he's some good yards away, still in sight of Holiday, still hidden in the treeline. Hawkeye keeps his gaze on her, keeps his ears focused on what's around to try and pick out any disturbance. He'd wait until she made the first move, and he'd sprint ahead. It felt a lot like waiting to try a new procedure, no experience, life on the line, text book open to page 213 with watery illustrations. So Hawkeye felt a streak of confidence it could be done.

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