G A S P A R D
The sparkle in your eyes keeps me alive...

Gaspard began to sense the prescence of some creature, but what it was he did not know. Keeping himself on guard, poised and ready to attack, the paranoid brute was not one to remove his attentions of something like this. Suddenly, out of nowhere came the lithe, slim figure of a dame. Her pelt was obsidian, and it was embossed with a small golden marking that shone out against her frame. Her eyes, also a golden hue, glowed with some sort of kindness towards him. She was of a fairly admirable build, one that seemed could certainly take care of herself.

The stranger persisted to come closer, and as much as the jumpy nature of the beast was one to be reckoned with, he held his ground. He was far bigger than her, in both build and height. He wondered how he would fair in a battle with her, but he did not think that it was necessary to think of tactics. She seemed friendly enough, and even to a foolishly paranoid brute such as himself, the alabaster and charcoal beast was not going to ruin the only friendship he could possibly make in his new homelands. It would be a stupid thing to do, considering the circumstances he was in. He did not want to be alone, and this could be his only way of getting out of the rut he was currently hidden in.

The water from the stream trickled down his pillars slightly, settling on the bleached feathers. His mossy orbs nestled in his large crown gazed upon the onyx stranger with a guarded approach, but still bore friendliness. The scar embedded into the front of his crown continued to ache, and the pain was written across his crown. He tried to push it to one side to focus on what the dame was saying. Even at the best of times, he found it hard to understand, nevermind the madness that was consuming him that made it ultimately difficult. The voices in his head spoke of things utterly useless to the situation.

With a cautious approach, he focused on the stranger, heeding her words and trying to understand them the best he could. He went ahead to reply with a gruff, deep tone that was littered with friendliness towards her.
"Greetings, stranger. I come... I come for search, of herd," Gaspard then went forward to tell the charcoal vixen his name, "My name is Gaspard." The silhouette of her was startingly dark, as black as the shadows, the golden features standing out alarmingly well.