Gerardi, pronghorn

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Character Information
Name: Gerardi
Age: 3 years
Gender: female
Species: Antilocapra americana (pronghorn)

Character Image



Physical Description:
Gerardi is a lean, tall pronghorn, built for agility, endurance, and speed.
She has a downy coat of rumpled fur.
She has two horns that are more typical of the males for her species: slender, tall black bones with pronged tips.
The hairs along her nape and around her tail are double the length of the rest on her body.

Her base coat color is a deep, rusty reddish brown, darkest on the sides while gradually fading towards the toes.
Her belly is off-white mottled light grayish brown, as are her chest, haunches, lower jaw, sides, tail, and throat; while the majority of this tint is solid, the lightness on her throat is broken-up in a striped pattern, with the ends of some stripes reaching nearly to the nape of her neck.
Her cheeks and the hairs of her nape are a slightly darker red.
Her ears are a slightly lighter brown.
Her eyes are a mix of muddy and sandy browns.
Her face, hooves, horns, and nose are masked in a charcoal black to graphite gray gradient.
Her skin and the inside of her mouth, including her tongue, are of the same blackish gray as her horns.

Her scent is a mixture of aloe vera, big bluestem, Mexican palo verde, and switchgrass.
Her voice is coarse, deep, and hoarse.


Personality:
Gerardi is, for lack of a better word, average.
For the most part she simply sort of exists.

Lacking purpose, the pronghorn generally goes about her life as an aimless itinerant.
She doesn't like to put too much thought into things, preferring to simply let her body run on its own.

She weaves in and out of situations, preferring to remain on her own, but lacking the need to completely turn away from others.
Most of the time she doesn't care one way or the other about where she is or with whom she is sharing company; at the same time, however, she doesn't like taking orders, and won't put up with anyone trying to control her.
She strives to be self-sufficient and get things done on her own and under her terms, remaining naturally reluctant to accept or request assistance, as she doesn't want to be seen or thought of as cowardly, weak, or, worst of all, slow, more so in her own mind than in the eyes of others.

Not altogether timid, but not a fighter either, although she is capable of perceiving potential threats, she lacks the mindset to actively avoid them, resulting in a preference to flee from danger as it occurs rather than react to an instinctual forewarning, and lashing out only when cornered with no other way out.
As a rule, she's not keen to trust anything with claws or sharp teeth, but all too often she's not paying enough attention to truly care.
She's confident, at times even arrogant, in her ability to outrun any amount of danger.

Claustrophobic, she strongly fears enclosed spaces and narrow passageways; she hates caves more than anything else, and makes it a point to avoid dense forest when she can.
She never likes to go anywhere that might limit her line of sight or restrict her mobility and speed: as such, canyons, hills, valleys, wetlands, and woodlands alike make her wary, leaving her to mostly wander through plains and prairies.


History:
* born on the prairies
* ran off at a young age
* started searching for a lackadaisical group since passing her first year
* found by a horse from the dunes, invited to accompany him to the deserts: ended up loosely joining with his start-up empire, whose followers consisted almost exclusively of horses; attended the founding, but afterwards was left ambling aimlessly to and from the deserts and grasslands, occasionally checking up on their oasis base and trying (but failing) to mingle with the others
* the empire slowly fell apart as its denizens began to disappear or disperse, all evidence of its existence eventually vanishing under the sands
* returned to her ramblings

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~Sample RP Post ~
Gray shadows unfurled from the fading darkness under a pale, rosy sky mottled with blue and white.
One by one the tiny points of light above were blinking out, as an as-yet unseen sun's glow slowly began to conceal the night.

A ruddy pronghorn stood grazing in the dawn from the crown of a high hill, ears angled backwards while eyes observed the flowing currents of a wide, bifurcating river some length below.
A constant wind from the north brought chilled air, ruffling waves of grass and hair alike.
The waters twitched in the breeze, an early frost lining leaves and rocks, while a flock of geese sat mingling in the shallows and on the shores of the river.

There wasn't much to do, and the herbivore merely remained half-alert for fellow stragglers.

Over time she had been growing bored of her lone wander, and at the moment was beginning to entertain a ploy that typically only a predator might find fun.
Well, more than just the notion-- as soon as the thought came to mind, the giraffoid had lifted her head, dropping a wad of grass and turning to make her way downhill, angling herself towards the gathering of waterfowl.
Her steps were careful and light, staying within the shadows of taller grasses as she tried to make use of the dawn's dimness.
Muscles tensed as she drew nearer, speed quickly increasing once she had left the slope for flatter land.

Within moments she was upon the flock, half the geese taken so much by surprise that they didn't even have a chance to fly away before she was among them, bucking, kicking, rearing, running, and stotting in an attempt to scare them up and away.
A few scattered into the waters of the gentle river, while the rest took to the skies, flapping and honking in all directions before slowly returning to the sides of their airborne fellows.

The pronghorn slowed to a stop, breathing little as she tilted her head back to watch, before lowering herself closer to the riverbed, where the remaining geese paddled farther away from her.