[Nah, no hard feelings, he would totally have done the same. Bourne accepts the directive; he knows tactics in his bones, if not in his head, and he knows command when he sees it. The former Army Captain recognizes a bit of the officer in Javert, though perhaps subconsciously. Without a word Bourne moves to cover Haytham's blind spot, almost idly packing snow into a small stockpile of snowballs, the borrowed gloves speeding up the process. These are not powdery; they're dense and icy, and liable to sting upon impact.
Ah, the question, the question. A month here and while Bourne hadn't seen hide or hair of anyone trying to kill him, he still didn't feel too comfortable bandying his name about. But then, better that than the name on the dog tags, and enough kedan and otherwise alike knew his adopted name here.] Jason Bourne. Watch out, inbound--
[A snowball skims over the top of the fort, and he lobs it back as easily as pitching a baseball. A muffled paff noise lets him know it hit someone, if not the person who sent it in the first place.] At least if they keep aiming low, they'll be fortifying the wall, not chipping away at it.
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Ah, the question, the question. A month here and while Bourne hadn't seen hide or hair of anyone trying to kill him, he still didn't feel too comfortable bandying his name about. But then, better that than the name on the dog tags, and enough kedan and otherwise alike knew his adopted name here.] Jason Bourne. Watch out, inbound--
[A snowball skims over the top of the fort, and he lobs it back as easily as pitching a baseball. A muffled paff noise lets him know it hit someone, if not the person who sent it in the first place.] At least if they keep aiming low, they'll be fortifying the wall, not chipping away at it.