Disclaimer: All stories are individuals of themselves and are unrelated to each other.
"No, like this," Gale stresses, his arm pulling Madge's backwards as she grunts angrily. "You're holding it wrong." The bow in her hand was positioned properly, it was the arrow, however, that wasn't.
"It looks right to me," she snaps back angrily, but then lowers the bow. "If you're just going to yell at me then I don't want to do this."
"You're just holding the arrow wrong," he mumbles, stepping away from her. "If you're not going to try then I don't want to do it either." He snatches the bow from her hand and models how it should look. "Like this. Both eyes open, you can see better. The one eye thing…"
"Is a myth," she finishes for him. "I know, I know, you've told me twelve times." He frowns at her, nocks the arrow, and then pulls the bowstring back, letting it go in one swift motion. "Showoff," she mutters. The arrow lands directly in the center of the tree he was aiming for.
"A little physical strain too difficult for the mayor's daughter?" he taunts, watching her eyes narrow on him. This is what she needs, to get angry. She'll shoot better. That's the plan, anyway. "Too hard for you?"
"Never," she growls, tearing the bow out of his hand. "The bow just is a little big for me."
"Excuses, excuses…"
"Give me an arrow," she hisses. He raises an eyebrow at her and she holds out her hand. "Now. Anyone can hit a target."
"Don't be discouraged if you…" she narrows her eyes again and he reaches around to grab an arrow. "Just don't point it at me," he says. "And if you miss…"
Madge takes a deep breath, shoving her hair behind her ears calmly. She straightens her back, gripping the back of the bow tightly. Another deep breath, she nocks the arrow on the rest. With one last glance at Gale she makes a face, causing him to chuckle. Then she turns back, holds her target of the tree right next to the one he hit in her sight, and pulls the string.
Gale watches carefully, his eyes noticing her perfect form, her delicate stance. The image is almost laughable to him, the bright haired blonde used to soap, out here, in the dirt of the woods. Attempting to shoot an arrow into a tree. That's the joke part, there's no way she'll have enough strength to get it to lodge into it. It'll just bounce right off.
Madge lets go of the bowstring, the shush the arrow makes leaving the rest echoes in the woods. "There," she tosses the bow back at him. "Anyone can hit a target, Hawthorne." He squints at her, but then his eyes follow up to where she shot. A tree past the one he aimed for. Perfectly lodged in the bark.
"But… how…"
"You really think I'm going to let a boy from the Seam show me up? Nice try," she smirks, crossing her arms lightly over her chest.
"Unbelievable," he laughs. "You are unbelievable."
A/N: Request of Gale taking Madge into the woods and she turns out better than expected.