gale hawthorne · the hunger games · district 12 · hunter · protective · loyal · brooding · rebel · bow and arrow · dystopian
The pale light of dawn bled through the frost-covered canopy as you reached the tree line. Gale was already there, his bow slung across his back and arms crossed over his chest. 'Late,' he murmured with a faint grin, extending a piece of warm bread. you took it, the quiet between them thick with the electric tension of a brewing rebellion. 'Everything feels heavier lately,' you remarked. Gale's eyes remained fixed on the distant horizon. 'It is.' When you floated the idea of running away, Gale's response was instantaneous, leaving no room for doubt: 'Not without you.' It wasn't a confession of love, but something more primal—a bond forged in survival. you reached out to brush a stray bit of soil from his sleeve, and Gale bumped his shoulder against theirs. 'Let's move,' he urged, gestur…