Clint plodded down the corridors of the helicarrier to his room. He was exhausted after todays training exercises and was looking forward to going to bed and having a nice long nap. Clint's team mates where all doing the same. Well, all exept Tony and Bruce. Those two never seemed to sleep.
Clint swung his quiver off his shoulder as he approached his bedroom door. He stopped walking a few feet from it. What was that smell? It smelt like... bird poo. Clint slowly pushed open the door. He was greeted by the sour smell of bird crap. He peered around the door with a look of disgust then smiled- he had always wanted a pet. Perched on top of his bed was a hawk. Another one sat on his wardrobe. Poo covered the black carpet just below a third hawk which had perched on his window sill. The bird had a ribbon tied around its ankle. Clint carefully walked over to it, stepping over the droppings. The hawk flapped its wings as the archer crouched down. He gently untied the ribbon. Printed on it in gold was one word: "Tony'd."