He doesn’t know it either. He’s strolling casually through the forest, whistling to himself.
Three figures, staying out of sight, have him triangulated. When he stops moving, one darts up a tree. The other two draw twin revolvers.
Clay has stopped, and he crosses his arms. “Alright, I hear you behind me,” he calls. “Is that you, Micah? Finally deigning to speak to me?”
“No,” One of the figures steps into views, both silver guns pointed right at Clay. She has an eyepatch over her right eye. He whirls around.
“No talking,” Silver snarls. The other figure limps into view, brandishing two bronze revolvers. “No talking unless it’s explaining who you are and why you’re impersonating Clay Tambien.”
Clay grips his right shoulder with one hand, his fingers inches from his arrows. “This isn’t how I wanted you guys to find out, but surprise, I’m alive!”
“Don’t touch those arrows,” Bronze says sharply. “We have a sniper and—“
“He’ll get me before I do because it’s Midori and he never misses, I know,” Clay puts his hands in the air. “Guys, it’s me! What do I have to do to prove it to you?”
Silver and Bronze exchange a glance.
“There is... one thing,” Silver says. “One thing that Clay only told us.”
Clay’s face pales. “Please don’t make me say it all again….”
“Just enough to prove yourself,” Bronze says.
Clay covers his face for a moment, rocking back and forth on his heels. Silver’s thumb rests on the hammer of her revolver.
“Isn’t my reluctance to tell you enough?” Clay bursts out, still covering his face.
“Who knows how good of an actor you are?” Silver says. “I’m not taking any—“
“Claire!” Clay yells, taking a step back and crossing his arms. He glares at Silver and Bronze. “Her name…..was Claire,” He takes a deep breath. “Is that what you wanted out of me? Have I proven myself enough?”
Silver and Bronze lower their weapons, then put them away. Silver puts a hand over her mouth, then runs and tackles him in a hug. Clay looks a bit taken aback at first, but he returns it. “Cyrus, please don’t cry.”
“I’ll cry if I [heck]ing want to,” Cyrus says furiously, burying her face in his shoulder. “I thought my best friend died. I have a right to tears!”
“I know, I know,” Clay blinks back tears. “But I’m getting choked up too, and you know that I’m the world’s ugliest crier.”
Cyrus half-laughs, half-sobs as a reply.
“Hey, uh, what am I, chopped liver?” Bronze calls. Another person with a sniper rifle strapped to their back, presumably Midori, stands next to him.
“Shut up, Xerxes, you’ll get your turn,” Cyrus says, though he probably can’t hear her. She wiper her eyes—well, eye singular, on Clay’s scarf, then lets go of him. Xerxes canters over and hug-tackles him as well.
What a touching reunion. Do you interject?
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