Bill rolled over, having landed face-first in the mud as he fell from the abyss. He stared up at the sky while he took stock of his situation; [color=D2691E]"That damned bull did me in, now I'm stuck playin' hero for some so-called goddess."[/color] the older man mused, sitting up and returning his mud-stained hat to his head where it belonged. [color=D2691E]"Baby girl, you'd be so jealous if ya knew."[/color]

[color=D2691E]"'nuff of that. Least the mud's behavin' how it outta"[/color] he grumbled before standing up. It was at that moment that Big Bill realized his entire body had been caked with the thick, wet dirt. More concerned with the strange situation, he willingly neglected to clean it off. If nothing else, it would disguise his scent from any monsters that decided to come looking. The rancher confirmed he presence of his granddaddy's revolver in the leather belt before drawing it, checking to ensure it was fully loaded before he carried on. Bill had enough spare cartridges in his belt to get him a ways.

William Jones' attention was drawn abruptly to the blinding light in the sky, [color=D2691E]"Now that there's a flare if I ever did see one."[/color] he hefted the old revolver, cupping his hands around the polished wooden grip as he began to make his way forward through the wilderness and towards his presumed destination; singing aloud to himself as he went.

[color=D2691E][i]"You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em."[/i][/color]