[h1][color=f7976a]Roxanne "Black Rose" Westfield[/color][/h1]
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Well, the plan was a success. Not a complete success, but still a success in some from at least. Once the trio had opened fire on Dawson’s men, it seemed to attract all sorts of attention, as more and more strangers began to join up with them as they took the fight to Dawson’s gang. She’d thought that the sucker Bradley had gone down for good after that hit he took from the Coyote, but that would have made things too easy for them, wouldn’t it? Now they had to content with the moron yelling in their direction as two of his goons dragged him into cover. 

The high pitched scream that came next drew more than just a few looks as several heads turned to the source of the noise. Roxanne thought she saw Taheton glance her way, but she’d just be mistaken anyhow. The scream had belonged to another woman riding a horse who had been wounded by a gunshot as she rode into the firefight. The attention on the woman was soon lost as she returned her focus to the fight. 

There was a lot of smack talk between both sides, and for what it was worth, the ones given by the Coyote was definitely on point. The Black Rose fired away the remaining rounds in her revolvers and returned them to their holsters.

Unslinging the Winchester 1876 from her back, she’d just fired over a round, when a angry hiss captured the attention of just about everyone. The source, a stick of dynamite that had landed at Leo’s feet. Roxanne watched as her companion fumbled with the explosive, not knowing how to do with it. As he ran away with the stick trying to get rid of it, Dawson’s men took their chance to aim shots of him while he ran down the road. 

Taking a brief look around, she saw Taheton moving back to tend to the wounded woman. She focused her efforts on the remaining Dawson’s men and that was when she heard the loud explosion, only to hear Taheton warning about more incoming. 

The firefight had definitely escalated into a noisy one that was for sure. SHe'd been doing well so far, but with explosives like dynamites and such, who knew how things would turn out? Explosives were fickle things.