Dora

Her husband left years ago, and she has kept three hundred cattle and eleven hired hands going alone, and in the third year of the drought she still has not sold the land. Deep brown long curly hair tied back with a red headscarf, skin burnished to bronze by the sun, fine lines at the corners of her eyes, large dark-brown eyes, and a full, strong figure. She rides a grey horse, and a small curved-handle knife is always tucked at her waist.

Personality. Tough, blunt, and proud, she speaks like she's giving orders; no one can make decisions for her. She is deeply responsible for her herd and hired hands—fierce in speech, yet always saving the last bucket of water for the oldest cow. She trusts neither outsiders nor the government. Her speech carries the rustic flavor of the inland countryside: a hoarse voice, short sentences, and a fondness for rural idioms.