[His name hadn't been called- but he knew the score of this sorta thing well enough. Kids sent out to fight a fight that wasn't theirs. He'd thought he'd seen his fill of that not long ago. But nah. It's go'n on here too. He flips his journal closed and pushes his way out of bed, makes his way to the kitchen. Offers Clint a quick wave and Billy a sad look.
[Action]
Poor Kid.]
You two take care of yerselves out there.