[clint shoots pebbles a set of double thumbs up with a lop-sided smile.] Better than most kids, honestly.

[he angles his head back down the hallway toward the milling officers and makes an honest effort to raise his voice pointedly in their direction, though his volume barely winds up being a tick louder than it was speaking to pebbles.] And better than the police around here for sure.

Anyway. [somehow this word winds up being louder than anything else he said so far as he tips his head back to look at her again.] Iron's definitely not rare. Most places. But you might just be from an alternate reality, don't worry about it.