With a satisfying thunk, Gil's arrows buried themselves into the target.
Archery was always a good way to blow off steam. It required focus, a clear mind and strength, so it meant that your anger and distractions had to be burned away, otherwise you would keep on missing the target. It was like meditation.
Gil's razorsharp focus was broken, however, when he saw a familiar figure with jetblack hair come around the bleachers. The next arrow that hit the target actually missed the red mark in the middle by a few inches.
Gil exhaled and relaxed his arms and the bow followed suit. There a slight film of sweat on his bare skin. He gave an askance look towards Van. "What's up?"