Well, you know Clint -- he lives to be annoying. Besides, having people who know him? Who know his tells? It weirds him out, man.

But whatever, he can deal.

For now, Clint busies himself with scanning their surroundings, as if he's simply watching their backs and not waiting for whatever Sam has cooked up that will explain his injury away. Mostly this means he doesn't get too much of a heads up for the wild boar that leaps out of the underbrush and charges at them. Just enough, so that his head turns, and they go down, missing the boar as it charges by.

Besides, he's got more problems. Even with Sam shielding him, his knee hits the ground and Clint doesn't hold back the yelp it draws from him, a very real pain crossing his face. There's a muttered curse, faked this time, though it's got enough behind it to be convincing, and he clutches at his wounded knee.