(Olp, back rolllin', then. x3)
Billy tilted his Stetson down to shield his waking eyes from the bright morning sun. "Yeah. That's probably a good idea." He muttered groggily through a yawn. Pushing himself up, he got to his feet and began tacking Westwood, who bounced on his hooves in anticipation. Slipping his boot into the stirrup, he hauled himself up into the leather saddle and jerked the reins to turn the stallion around. "Well. Whhere to, now?" He asked in a low tone, halting Westwood beside Pistol.