Immediately hoping on his steed, the cowboy wasted no time upon his getaway. “Com’on…we best get on…”, he looked to the sky, taking a scent of the breezy air. Smelling the clogged smoke flush the sky before the rainforest began its repair itself, the survivalist knew the Awekian skies were reacting from the heavily dry fire that burned from within the jungle. And as the clouds started forming rain, the sound of the horde were growing closer with thunderous pace. Startling the pirate’s horse, he acted quickly and in a hurry. Reaching down a grabbing Barbossa’s hat, with all of its wealthy touch, he took it for himself. Bowing to the high-and-mighty figure, now lying on the floor to their feet, the outlaw chuckled in gloating spirit, “tis tis, capitán…ye’know, as a fellow captain, I surely do admire ye…..”.
As the captain hit the dirt, calling for them to both help him and get the outlaws, Bourbon turned away from the cloud of stampeding animals. With his blunderbuss loaded in hand, the shameless pirate looked to one of the men with piercing eyes. As the group chaotically ran for their leader, Bourbon pointed the black powder predecessor to the shotgun and fired it with a merciless shot. Hitting one of the men dead in his armor, the fleeing outlaw had no chance to see if the man was still alive, since the unsuspecting Spaniard was launched straight off of the cliff by the hammering blast. As Grey watched, firing a shot from his revolver into the face of another soldier, the drunken pirate leaped onto his black horse and sped down the trail. “AYE AYE…AJAJAJAJA!!!”, the sea-loving outlaw lustfully laughed a hardy one of adventure, as he waved the captain’s hat in the breeze. Beating Grey to the lead, the cowboy waved at the furious gentleman, who was finally getting to his feet. “Watch out for the herd, Captain…”, he began to yell as he grew farther away. While the horde of large group animals flushed the path with a thick scam, forcing the Spanish horses to flee along with them, Grey laughed. “By the way, captain…I’M NO AMERICANO!!!”, the Awekia survivalist howled in gleeful spirit.
While the group of cattle followed them in frightened numbers, the wrangler addressed the two men. “Alright, we need to get rid of this here horde, before we crash into that there cavern…..”, he thought of an idea, before his partner spoke up with urgency. “uh, Grey…mi think Barbossa has company…”, he pointed over the steep cliffside. As the numerous tropical birds of the jungle fluttered for their own survival, in scattering directions, Grey noticed a Spanish ship in the river down below. Large and mighty, the vessel hurried after them, along the wide river that winded forty foot down from their position. With the Spanish flag planted broadly along their powerful sails, they were following the outlaws. However, before either of them could speak a word about it, they were met with the sight of a flying object soaring through the edge of the path. Many yards ahead, Bourbon saw that the ship was shooting cannon fire at them. With piercing ripples in the wind force, another cast icon ball came hurling at them. Nearing knocking the cowboy off of his black steed, the trained stallion stumbled through rocky debris and stumbled a few times before regaining its footing.
“Fellas! What about that path!”, the pirate pointed to the first large fork in the road that he could see. Drawing attention to the idea of them going down that way, leaving the main path to the horde and the Spanish. However, the secondary route dove in the mountain and into the forest. “No, we must stay here…”, Grey spat before looking back to see a few of the scared animals breaking apart. “…what if we send the horde that way?”, Bourbon guessed a plan that could utilize the fork. Chaotically reacting to cannon blast, the instinctual creatures were afraid of the path ahead of them, and frantically charging for alternative ways to safety. As many of them fled back into the drizzling rainforest, Grey straggled back to the far edge of the cliff. Pulling his gun, he fired high into the air and down into the dirt, scaring the group into moving farther on the inside of the road and away from him and the edge. As the fork grew closer, the pirate frantically searched his satchel for a stick of dynamite. Finding his last one, he lit and launched it towards the cliffed route. And, as it exploded, sending the message of danger to the herd, most of them either flooded the path or darted into the trees. While Bourbon urged his steady steed through the puffed smoke, Grey watched the thick group break apart and signed a breath a relief, before another burning cannon ball hit the cliff directly behind him. Causing his horse to leap into the scattering remains of the stampede, the cowboy noticed the few remains of the Conquistadores de Inquisición lingering far behind. After catching up to the other two outlaws, the brown haired Awekian spoke, “…we have company…..”. As the drunkard looked back to see the captain firing at them, he scoffed out in annoyance, “AY!...remind mi t' take 'em bloody scalp, next time…”, in a somewhat joking manner, he patted the stallion’s back with the metal helmet of the captain, alerting it to speed up and around the few cattle stragglers that fled with them.