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Dawn sneaks upon the hunting party, huddled behind a line of bushes, still as they could be, breathing in the freezing air and dampening their face coverings with every exhale.
Peeta was in great spirits regardless of the hardness of the ground beneath him, or the bitter cold temperature outside or the lack of protection from the cold breeze in the bare woods; he was happy as a clam, even enduring muscle clamping from holding a position for too long; in fact, he’d never felt as giddy and accomplished as he felt right now.
In all honesty, Peeta had never been hunting for real, so the experience was both daunting and exhilarating. Sure, he’d accompanied Katniss— his beloved wife— into the woods before and seen her shooting squirrels and rabbits like a real life goddess Artemis, but they never intentionally gone into the woods to hunt; and while the prospect of having to field dress his kill was just a tad revolting to Peeta, the expectation of seeing a certain pair of grey eyes brimming with pride over a roasted bird he’d procured on a feat of Neanderthal masculinity, just fueled his drive to see this trip through.
Crack!
“Hush!” A harsh voice snapped quietly.
“Sorry…”
“Shut it!”
“Fine!”
“Enough!”
“What are you so pissy about? It was just a twig. Deer and critters break twigs all the time, and the rest of the animals don’t even look twice! Plus, we’ve been out here for almost two hours and we haven’t seen anything walk by!” Stage whispers the youngest member of the hunting party, Vick, Peeta recalls the teenager’s name.
“That’s because you keep moving, disturbing the brush.” Whispers a calmer, more mature voice. Thom Miner, a hunting buddy of Gale Hawthorne, who put this outing together to help Peeta with his secret mission.
“We should just go back and try again in the afternoon. It’s too early for turkeys anyway.” Whispers somebody else.
Peeta panics. He’s about to say something when Gale’s stern voice interrupts.
“The afternoon is not an option for Peeta, and we all agreed to help him get a turkey for Catnip, remember?” His voice is quiet, but carries authority in the stillness of the early morning.
“Katniss really won’t mind getting a frozen turkey from the store, ya know?” says Vick.
“Yeah, but that’s not the point! Peeta wants to surprise her with a fresh bird!” Replies another young voice.
“Just sayin’,” shrugs Vick, “Don't get your panties in a wad, Rory.”
Rory, who’s just a couple of years older than Vick, turns to his brother about to shove him for that comment, but Gale just grunts a “stop it you too!” Rendering his younger siblings quiet.
“Well, the sun is coming out anyway, which is good. Turkeys will be more willing to come out to feed once it starts to warm up a bit,” says Thom in his slow cadence.
The rest of the party agrees to wait another hour or so, in the hopes that the cresting sun will entice the birds to waddle out of their hiding spots.
Peeta’s grateful to these people, really. He doesn’t have the best relationship with Gale Hawthorne, his former romantic rival… Peeta isn’t petty or resentful… jealous? Yes, but resentful? No. Peeta got the girl in the end, so what does he have to be petty about? Because for reasons Peeta can’t quite fathom, Gale remains his wife’s best friend, despite their semi-fall-out after her choosing Peeta over Gale. Peeta’s man enough to recognize he needs help with his current endeavor, and Gale had been honorable enough to lend a helping hand— or two— to teach Peeta how to hunt, and for that he’s truly grateful.
Katniss has never been an ordinary, dainty, southern belle, but a gritty, tough as nails, southern woman.
And what a woman!
Peeta distinctly remembers the first time he saw her shoot.
Pure poetry, grace, and fluid beauty. It was a school archery competition, they were 16 then, and while Peeta had been a goner for Katniss for close to 11 years already, watching the petit, scowling girl handle the bow with ease and make her bullseye with such grace, made something stir in his heart… and below the belt, not that he’ll confess that to anyone, except, perhaps Katniss.
Ever since that day, he’d known she was in a much higher league than him, yet, she chose him to cherish and love for the rest of their lives, and Peeta was committed to uphold every single one of his wedding vows to Katniss and to make her feel loved and cared for. So, when his wife of six months made an off hand comment about the merits of having a non-store bought turkey as centerpiece of their first Thanksgiving table as a husband and wife, Peeta wholeheartedly invested himself in making it happen for his bride, and in Peeta’s book there was no better hunter than his wife’s former hunting partner, Gale Hawthorne.
Convincing Gale to teach Peeta how to shoot wasn’t super hard. Gale was willing to put aside his differences with Peeta, as long as he could repair his friendship with Katniss— if not to its former glory— to something better than a passing ‘hello’ here and there.
The tricky part came when it was time to cover up the plethora of knicks, bruises and cuts on Peeta’s arms from his secret hunting lessons with Gale. For what it was worth, Peeta had experience hiding all kinds of injuries from growing up under his mother’s— literal— iron fist care. It was also great he ran a bakery for a living, where he could blame the evidence of his new extracurricular activities under the pretext of being extra “clumsy” at work. The blisters and string burns dotting his fingers were easy enough to pass as baking marks, but the one time he got a string slap to the chest… well, that particular bruise was hard to explain away. Peeta kept his shirts on or simply turned off the lights before removing them for bed; the real test was keeping from whining out in pain when Katniss’ clever, callous fingers caressed his sternum one night, right where the bruise was tender and his ailing skin felt raw. It was the worst! but as far as today, Peeta’s been successful in keeping his hunting lessons secret from his wife.
A faint gobble-gobble rises in the distance. The hunters visibly perk up in their perches, peeking their eyes through the gaps in the branches concealing them.
“Shush…” Gale brings a finger to his lips to quiet everyone down, “here they come,”
The sun is already over the treetops, it’s light pierces the dwindling canopy of leaves, allowing a clear view of a family of about 10 turkeys, tentatively pat-patting their way between a row of skinny trees a few yards yonder.
Peeta took a deep breath, “Here goes nothing,” he says, loading his bow as surreptitiously as possible; he’s watched Katniss notch arrows so many times with a simple flick of her hand, it came as a surprise to him when he tried for the time to load his bow by himself, and he couldn’t do it right away.
“Steady and calm,” Gale murmurs. “Remember, release the arrow before your arm follows through. You’ve got this…” The most surprising thing to experience throughout this whole ordeal was Gale’s patience.
Gale showed Peeta his techniques until his form was right. The man never made a snide remark, nor did he gloat or mock Peeta for missing targets or having a horrendous form. Gale just gave easy to follow instructions, and while neither man was keen to touch, Gale had held Peeta’s arms in the correct position, while gently kicking his legs to fix his stance… even now, Peeta felt ghosts fingers holding his elbow firmly, as he took aim, the feathers of his arrow tickling the corner of his mouth as he felt the tension of his string dig into the tip of his finger.
“Peeta, shoot straight,” murmurs Gale.
Peeta nods, stops breathing altogether, and clenches one blue eye close to align his shot; he lets go of his arrow, exhaling almost too loudly.
On instinct, his other eye shuts too, and he’s suddenly plunged into darkness, his nerves are shut as well for a long minute, before he hears two, three, four more swishing arrows zoom by and the following dull thuds as they hit their mark.
Peeta opens his eyes to see what damage was made when a frenzy of gurgles, clucks and yelps disrupts the silence of the woods.
Before he can react, Rory Hawthorne gives a loud yip, and jumps out of his perch to check the bird he felled. Vick follows right on his heels hollering nonstop: “Did you me, Gale? Did you see that? I got it right in the gizzard!”
Gale just smiles lopsidedly and nods proudly at his siblings.
Peeta’s less enthusiastic about seeing his kill, but still, he gets out from behind the bush, and lumbers to where the band of turkeys have scattered away in fright.
“Keep an eye on them birds!” Calls Thom, “one of them is bound to turn around and chase us off, to avenge his friends.”
Peeta does a double take, he knows some game birds can be aggressive, but he’s not sure if wild turkeys are part of that category, so he approaches the one turkey with his arrow sticking out of its neck cautiously, nervously looking around for retaliating birds.
“Good job, Peet!” Says Vick, sitting on a rock, already pulling feathers out of his catch.
Gale puts a hand on his brother’s shoulder to stop him. “Don’t pluck it yet. We’ve got three birds and yours is kinda fat. We need to see what does Ma wanna do with them first.”
Peeta pokes his turkey with the toe of his boot, but the bird just lays there, lifeless, so he picks it up gingerly by the legs. “Should I pluck mine?” He asks, genuinely curious.
Thom smirks and says, “Leave it for Katniss to deal with. Then she’ll know for sure you didn’t buy this one at the store,” he motions to Peeta’s turkey with the arrow he’d just yanked from his own game.
Gale doesn’t even crack a smile, but his brothers laugh heartily, and Peeta goes back to being happy with his excursion into the woods, and the prospect of seeing Katniss eyes fill with joy and pride for him.
Katniss is standing at her kitchen sink, rinsing the mug she just drank her morning tea from, when she hears a familiar truck pull into her driveway.
She makes her way to the windows facing the front porch, puzzled, wondering what in tarnation brings Gale Hawthorne to her house at 7:55 in the morning… when her husband is at work? But as she peeks through the blinds, her confusion grows when she sees an unusual picture right before her eyes.
“What…?” She wraps herself into a hand knitted shawl her mom made for her, stepping sockless into her comfortable, worn boots, and comes out her front door, to see what’s going on for herself.
The first sound that meets her ears is Rory’s contagious chuckles, followed by a snort from Vick. Peeta’s deep laugh comes next, which, more than having seen his unmistakable towheaded waves peeking from whiting the cabin, confirms the fact that her husband is just jumping out of Gale’s pick-up truck, dressed in camouflage hunting gear, muddy boots and his trademark Peeta smile that makes her heart skip a beat.
“See you next week, Peet!” Vick calls, hanging out the truck’s open door.
“Depends on how cold it is out!” Peeta replies, leaning his upper body over the bed of the truck.
“Bring Katniss too, will ya?!” Vick beams.
“Sure… if she’s up to it,” Peeta responds, fishing out a long, black bow similar to Katniss’ custom made bow, but a bit heavier looking.
Katniss blinks twice, scowl set on her brows, still trying to understand what’s going on here.
Gale’s eyes zero in on her, and waves, a sheepish grin lifting the corners of his mouth. “Catnip,” he greets, making the rest of the party finally notice her standing there, with her arms crossed over her chest and squint in her gaze.
“Gale. Boys… Peeta?” She nods, suspiciously in greeting. “Care to tell me what are you guys up to?” Her voice is level, but curious.
Peeta’s smile widens, like he’s been given an early Christmas present, and then he shoulders the unfamiliar bow and quiver and Katniss arches a dark eyebrow when she sees her husband pulling a plump Jake turkey, before strutting up the porch steps to reach her.
Peeta says a breathy, “Morning, Sweetheart… I brought you a gift from the woods,” he presents the bird to his wife, and she can read the nervous expectation in his sweet, baby blues.
She looks down at the turkey hanging upside down from Peeta’s firm grip, and then looks back into his eyes, before glancing at Gale and the boys, who seem to be holding their breaths in the truck.
“You… you got this in the woods, for me?” She asks just a little uncertain.
Peeta nods, and a small flash of insecurity passes over his eyes. Katniss hates that look, so she bites the inside of her lips.
“Did… you… shoot it? Yourself?” She asks, touching the bow hanging from his back lightly.
Peeta’s grin grows brighter, “Gale taught me how to hunt,” he admits.
“Only the basics,” Gale calls good naturedly from his car, nodding in their direction, “He picked up a great deal of stuff just watching you, when you brought him into the woods with you. He’s a good pupil. Follows directions well, unlike certain people…” Gale glares pointedly at Rory and Vick who look rightfully shamed. “You picked a good one there, Catnip,” Gale concedes gruffly.
Katniss looks surprised for a beat, before turning to take in her husband’s face. She smiles then, nodding, “I know I did, my man is a pleasant box of surprises,” she says the last part quietly, giving her husband heart eyes and a sweet smile.
“Um… Gale… I think we should… get going?” Says Rory.
“Yeah, she’s giving him googly eyes. Yuck!” Vick agrees.
Before Gale can answer, the newlyweds snap out of their bubble, and face the Hawthorne boys.
“Thank you, Gale!” Peeta shouts.
“Yes. Thanks,” Katniss offers, before stepping forward, and cautiously saying, “Hey, if that offer to go out there next week is still standing…”
Gale nods. “Sounds good.”
Vick breaks into a grin, “See you next week, you two!”
“Will do,” Peeta says, wrapping his free arm around his wife’s shoulders.
They wave the Hawthorne’s away, and then Katniss snuggles into her husband’s side.
“I knew something was up.” She smirks, rubbing a hand on his chest, where he can still feel the ghost of his bruise from that string slap. “You need to wear tighter shirts, hun, and maybe a chest shield,”
Peeta chuckles, “Ah… you noticed that?” He shakes his head ruefully.
“I did, and at first I thought the worse, but decided to give you room, and wait until you felt comfortable enough to talk about it.”
“I didn’t mean to worry you,”
Katniss shrugs, “I knew it couldn’t be something bad, otherwise you would’ve told me, and believe me, I was ready to defend you!”
“Oh, I don't doubt that for a second!” He leans down and kisses her lips tenderly.
Katniss pushes her fingers through his soft hair, curling at the nape of his neck to deepen the kiss.
After a moment, they break apart, and Katniss smiles down at the bird Peeta still holds. “Let’s get this big guy ready for Thanksgiving then. My mom and Prim will be ecstatic about Thanksgiving supper when they hear of your hunting skills. And I want to hear all about that bow! Where did you get it? Did Gale help? Are you making your famous cornbread dressing or should we go with my mom’s recipe? We need to call your dad and invite him too, even if your mom doesn’t come… Yay! Now we get to go hunting together for real! I can’t wait—-“
They walked into their home, wrapped in each other, with their turkey on hand, and lots of plans for the future.