[center][b]TZI TI'AMTUM[/b][/center]

Around twenty ... twenty-one attackers? The hot stew shifted in his mouth. One, two ... a few were going down? Tzi flattened himself back against a rock, bowl gripped precariously in his large hands as the bullets continued to fly. The attack was definitely a real surprise. Not as surprising as the meat; they must have gotten an older deer for his share, because the few remaining cuts floating in the bowl were definitely gamier and tougher than he'd expected. It was chewy. Too chewy. The broth was pretty great for something made on the road, even if it needed a bit more spice and pizazz, but the meat? He just hadda give it a thumbs down.

Wagnill'd taken more of a beating than whatever got the meat so tight. Poor bugger, he was missing out on the non-deer parts of the stew. The tall young man dropped into a crawl, minimising his profile in the darkness of the campsite. A few shots continued to ring out above. The enemy'd definitely gotten the jump on them. He grinned, balancing the bowl on his head as he began to shuffle forward through the cold, rough dirt. How excitingly forward of them. Too bad they were going to get real beat when he could get around that rock. He couldn't just jump up and start swinging at them immediately. It was way too dark, and with everyone jam-packed like sardines in a small area, his trident could hurt some of the pals. The surprise had caught them off-guard there.

He didn't have the luxury of getting into a good position, especially at night, but the gods must have decided that he could get away with being harder to see when pressed up against the dirt. If the attackers had successfully surprised them all, then it was only fair that Tzi was going to do the same back. The others were already doing that. He could hear Gerhardt and Leon's rallying cries. He grabbed the bowl of stew, throwing it straight up into the leg of an unsuspecting rifleman that in the chaos had failed to notice his worm-like approach. It was a waste of a meal, but he'd gotten most of the meat out of the way anyway, and desperate times called for desperate measures. It wasn't so great that he couldn't waste it. And it was hot too, so that'd help.

Tzi didn't expect it to be super effective. No, it was just a distraction. As the sudden influx of heat caught the rifleman off-guard, the islander scrambled to his feet. It happened in an instant. His muscular frame impacted the attacker head-on without warning, a real reversal of the situation at the start. He wouldn't relent from the assault, because a second later, his carving fork was in hand, manifesting into a trident that immediately stabbed down.

The gunners would have to meat their makers first.

If they could turn the momentum of the ambush against the attackers, then it'd be a much more level field.

Blood pumped through his arms.

It was going to be fun.