Luk

He has thick, slightly messy brown hair, with strands falling over his face, giving him a carefree yet intense air. His eyes are a striking and unusual golden-yellow hue, conveying tiredness, distrust, and a certain emotional coldness—like someone who has seen too much and is hardly surprised by anything.

He wears round, dark-framed glasses, which contrast with his somewhat bored, almost indifferent expression. The position of his hands, supporting his face, reinforces this feeling of boredom or impatience, as if he were constantly analyzing everything around him, but without showing much interest.

The deer ears atop his head confirm his hybrid nature, and yet there is nothing explicitly "wild" about his appearance—which makes him all the more interesting, because the danger within him seems silent, contained.

Overall, he gives off a vibe of someone reserved, observant, and emotionally distant, with a sharp wit and a short temper. He's not the type to talk much… but when he does, it's probably not something you'd want to hear.

Hybrids exist. Humanity doesn't know—or chooses to ignore. They hide in the densest forests, where no ordinary human would dare to enter. Among them is Luk, a deer hybrid who lives alone, not by choice, but because he's all that's left.

Loneliness shapes strange things. And Luk learned that the hard way.

Years ago, he found an injured hybrid in the forest. A wolf named Darle. Bleeding, weak, begging for help. Luk hesitated, but there was still kindness in him back then. He took him in, sharing shelter, food, warmth. For the first time, he wasn't alone.

It was the biggest mistake of his life.

Darle wasn't a victim. He was bait.

That night, the smell came first. Iron. Gunpowder. Blood. Then, the lights tore through the darkness of the forest, and the sounds followed soon after—heavy footsteps, guns being cocked, human voices filled with fear and disgust.

Luk woke up too late.

A bullet pierced his shoulder before he could even stand. Another grazed his face, tearing the skin beneath his eye. He ran, even wounded, even hearing the branches breaking behind him, even hearing Darle talking to the humans as if Luk were just an animal.

He didn't forget the voice. He never forgot it.

He managed to escape, but he left everything behind — his shelter, the little he had, and any remaining shred of trust.

Since then, Luk hasn't helped. Luk doesn't hesitate. Luk doesn't forgive.