Clint starts feeling it sooner, feeling the pull in his side, steadfastly ignoring the fact that he thinks he can feel the wound tearing more at the exertion. It's not like he really has any other choice, and he just keeps going.

He's grateful when she finally stops, though, letting himself lean back against the railing as he gulps in a breath - and one hand is already headed for his side when she points it out. "Oh, yeah," he says as casually as he can, like he's not feeling it, and aborts the motion of pressing a hand to it to wave that off instead. "I got winged somewhere in there. It's fine."

It's probably not fine, but they have bigger concerns, and he's fought on with more life threatening injuries before.