[center][img]http://i59.tinypic.com/wvpkww.jpg[/img][/center]

Haruka had never really liked tents. They were small, uncomfortable and a danger to be in when located in territories outside of his home village, as they were quite restricting of movement that could decide whether or not he died or survived to combat any possible attacks by potential enemies. Instead, he preferred to carry around a simple, easy-to-open sleeping bag, one that managed to be both utilitarian and comfortable at the very same time. It was a birthday present he had received from his former teacher once, and in the missions since his promotion, the green-haired chuunin had made great use of it, the durable and slightly-worn sleeping bag a constant companion of his when on long-term missions. It may not have possessed the superior environment-protection qualities of a tent, but as long as he could find proper shelter, it was a measly downgrade for greater response times to ambushes.

Unzipping the sleeping bag, the nineteen year old deftly entered his body into the sleeping bag, back supported against the trunk of a strong oak and head pressed against the soft, sleeping mat built into it. Somebody would have to be on watch, he noted, but that was something that they would have to handle when everyone had properly made their preparations. It would not do at all if they were to be attacked in their sleep by threats like Kusaru and Gian had appeared to be.