[img]https://i.imgur.com/hwirstv.png[/img]

He was cautious to a fault it seemed. Enough that Philoctetes choice to not attack only brought more attacks. The sudden aggression was a sign that the enemy either didn't like him for not shooting into a forest, or just didn't like him in general. And most of all, he was starting to see just how talented this archer was, because the arrows, even while fired from the depths of the woods, were flawless shots. Far from a novice, as if he let even a single hit, he suspected they'd hurt quite a bit. 

This was why he kept his perch. So that when each arrow flew at him, he'd catch them in the act. Either shooting them down with one of his own, or gracefully hoping aside to another old telephone pole when the other was to dangerous to stand on. The enemy archer was certainly top tier. He'd only seen a rare few in his life. No doubt there were others on their tier. But how many could pull all of this together? Especially on a night where the only light came from few bits of moon that weren't peeking out through the dark clouds. As such, he could only expect them to have better eyes than him. Perhaps this was Chiron? No. He doubted it. Chiron would certainly have gone defensive if he identified Hydra poison on the arrows. Besides... Chiron was a centaur. Right? 

Rather, he was facing a hunter with superior archery and a preference for the woods. Still not narrowing it down. He hardly had time to start making a list either, as he continued to play defense. If Archer was shooting at him, that meant they weren't shooting at an ally. A better scenario by far, considering how much distance he needed to properly keep up in the dead of night. 

He moved from telephone post, to abandoned telephone post. Evading each arrow, or rather shooting them down. Keep them interested. He couldn't see his target. A sign that they were in their element. Was this a loss? He hated to say it, but it was obvious he wasn't going to be getting any results beyond just drawing another archer's ire. 

Instead, he took aim, and fired an arrow off into the distance. Not towards the other archer, but towards the bolt of lightning that had gone off. His aim remarkably true in the illumination of that little display of power. His arrow sailing through the air, and targeting the Rider his ally Lancer had engaged. A little farewell gift, or a distraction. 

In the same motion, he retreated into the woods. The density of trees no doubt breaking line of sight. He too started to vanish into the forest, making his way through its woods and branches. He'd meet the enemy archer on a less cloudy night. Yes, that seemed more polite.