[h3][color=D7AAFF][u][b]Neno                  [/b][/u][/color][/h3]
As the flames of their camp flickered from the belated winter winds, Neno enjoyed his meal. In all honesty, he didn't like it. The thick meat was much too gamy. There was no fat to congeal, nor melt in one's mouth. Only the thin broth managed to make the meat edible. His mother's stew was much better than this. In fact, he was sure than an ape could make a better meal than what he had before him. Despite Neno's critiques, he still greedily gobbled the meal down. It was the only actual meal he had eaten in a long time. The thoughts of hardtack, cheap preserved meats, and ancient vegetables managed to be an effective means of flavouring an otherwise drab meal.

However, as he tried to savour what little of a meal he had left, an unknown man began to yell a warning. Neno looked over right as gun shots rang through the camp. It was as if the world froze. Not a single sound was made, besides for the ringing of his ears. In the brief respite of combat, Neno's mind processed one thing: all hell was going to break loose.

What little stew was left in his bowl was quickly dropped as he scrambled for cover. He needed to understand what was happening. Without so much as an ounce of hesitation, he dove behind a fallen tree and began to look around. They were surrounded, save for a single exit up a rocky hillside. It was an easy escape for Neno, except for the riflemen. If they had caught him rappelling up the hillside, he would be an easy target.

The only way to escape would be to rout them. Or kill them. Either or. 

The enemy seemed to be set up to have two guards protecting one rifleman. It was a viable strategy in most battles. However, that would only be if the guards could protect the rifleman. Already forming a half-baked plan, Neno tugged on his scarf. It quickly disassembled into ribbons, twisting around his arms and his back. The length on his right arm quickly tightened into a single thread and twisted along the ground towards one of the groups.

Neno turned his body, his back along the ground and his legs bent the thick collapsed tree trunk, as if he was preparing to jump and slide across the ground. His thread quickly contorted along the ground and behind the rifleman's cronies. It slid past the rifleman, instead bending up a tree and along a thick branch. As if it were a snake, the thread lashed out at the rifleman. It quickly wrapped around his neck. Without so much as an ounce of hesitation, the thread tightened into wire, yanking the rifleman off of his feet. An unexpected snap echoed to Neno. The rifleman was most likely dead from the sudden jolt of the wire around his throat, but Neno didn't take any sort of chance. The wire cut deeper and deeper into the rifleman's neck as Neno kept reeling the thread in.

That was one rifleman down.