The way that she’d taken the target caused Daryl to take a step back. He’d followed it from the time he threw it up into the air until it was split apart and fell into different directions, his eyebrows raised slightly.
“Is that what we’re doin’?” he asked, a little incredulous. He waved his hand at her, playfully dismissive as he shook his head. Daryl had never actually competed before, so he wasn’t entirely sure how to make this into a game. He thought about the other stuff he could throw and hit, but other than his pack of cigarettes, there wasn’t too much variety. And he really wanted to hold onto those little cancer sticks just a while longer.
After a brief moment of looking around at his surroundings, he pointed out to the distance, to a stop sign sitting at a corner of the street. He had to stare at it for a moment to be sure he could hit it.
“Watch the ‘o’,” he said, raising his crossbow. He took only a couple seconds to aim it before he pulled the trigger, and he squinted to see whether or not it had met its target. Satisfied that he’d met it, he turned back to look at Gretel, the corner of his mouth curved just slightly upward.