Swords, swordsmen, and mounts share one critical vulnerability: a glaring lack of ranged capability.

There's no rationing here--Clint is a proponent of that most American of vices, holiday-justified gluttony. "Well, thanks."

He doesn't seem put off by the strength or weathering of her hand; his own is fairly strong, itself, with no shortage of calluses. "Oh, I will. I've already got my first burger picked out, and it's a beauty."