Gordon collided with him.  In the midst of the collision I saw the two pistols the eldest clone was armed with, saw Gordon reach for just the one, twisting it around in the clone’s hand so the barrel pointed at the boy, the trigger finger slipping away from the trigger.

Our Gordon.  A hero on paper, skilled, strong, fit.  But if anyone took him for noble, they’d be wrong.  A noble person didn’t take advantage of inches of height difference to slam their forehead into someone’s mouth.

Wildbow, Twig, 1.10