Clint
Clint walked back into the interrogation room where Percy was waiting. He held up two bows.
"We're gonna have some target practice." Percy shrugged and followed him out to the balcony where he'd left two quivers. Clint hit a button and two targets extended out from the edge. When he looked over at Percy he saw that he already had his hands positioned correctly.
"I should warn you, I'm not much of a marksman." Clint shrugged.
"I just want to see what you can do. Don't worry if you can hit the target or not." Percy nodded, looking slightly relieved. He pulled back the bowstring, sighting correctly. Clint was impressed. The kid's form was flawless.
But when he released the arrow, he missed every time. Clint doubted the kid's ability to hit even the broad side of a barn. HE glanced around him at the arrows that had clattered against the ground around them. A few were even lodged in the doorframe behind them.
Clint went for reassuring.
"Can't be good at everything right?" Percy shrugged, clearly not bothered at all by his lack of ability. Clint was a little surprised. Most people would have been at least a little disappointed that they hadn't even come close to scraping against the target. But Percy didn't seem to care.