Though in his late twenties pushing into thirty, Mykola has a certain boyish look about him all the same. His face is rounded, with high but unpronounced cheek bones and a soft jaw line frequently shaded by a few days growth of stubble. Other facial features are better defined; his brow is strong, chiseled and expressive with rather bushy eyebrows, sloping into a sharp, angular nose with a narrow bridge. His mouth is small, though his lips are full and well formed, resting above a strong chin with a deep cleft. Mykola’s hair is dark brown, though can appear almost blonde in some places when struck by the sun, contrasting with darkly tanned skin from much time spent in the sun.
Height/Weight - 5'11"
Hair Color/Eye Color - Dark Blonde/Blue
Wolf Pelt/Eye Color - Silver-Phase Black/Gold
Despite his withdrawn façade, Mykola is an amicable individual capable of making friends easily enough. He has good, albeit oftentimes morbid, sense of humor and is (almost) always quick with a smile or to laugh at a joke. Like most young men he is not above some measure of rabblerousing in his free time
In contrast to his better qualities, Mykola is also prone to brooding somberness. His time overseas in the military left their mark on the young man, who suffers from a mild case of PTSD from his experience at war as well as survivor’s guilt. It is the latter which affects Mykola most, his inability to re-enlist leaving the soldier with the sense that he abandoned his brothers in uniform; the military had been the only place he ever felt truly at home, in spite of the horrors he has witnessed, and Mykola wrestles daily with his longing to be back in the company of his fellows.
In spite of all this Mykola was a fairly upbeat youth who rarely let his unstable familial situation drag him down into the brooding mire so many young people flounder through in their teenage years. Though he did fairly well in school, college was never a place Mykola envisioned himself; rather, he enlisted in the marine corps on his seventeenth birthday and began what would have been – were it not for a dire twist of fate – a life-long career as a soldier.
In his career as a marine Mykola served all over the world, including multiple tours in the Middle East. His time in active combat affected him deeply, leaving scars that ran much deeper than flesh; but he was an adept soldier, and in spite of the negative aspects of his career the young man could never picture himself anywhere but the Corps.
But everything changed when Mykola was discharged from his second enlistment. Though he fully intended to sign up for another tour in the force, several close friends had decided their time in the military was over with; to celebrate their retirement the group retreated into the mountains for a week of hunting. It was on this trip that Mykola’s life was changed forever when a terrifyingly immense, rabid wolf – at least, that’s what they thought at the time – encroached upon their campsite. It attacked Mykola as he returned from the nearby creek, mauling him severely before being driven off by his companions. Cutting their trip short, one of his friends rushed Mykola back into town while the rest stayed in search of the wounded wolf – though the blood trail ended abruptly and it was never found. Back in town Mykola received treatment for his wounds, accompanied by a thoroughly unpleasant round of rabies vaccinations.
From there everything began to unravel. Mykola survived his first month as a werewolf through sheer dumb luck; his first shift was a gruesome one which left a trail of slaughtered animals in his wake. A trail that soon led a much older bitten – Daniel – to his doorstep. Still reeling in shock from the suddenness of it all Mykola could hardly refuse the aid that was offered, and for a brief time after he lived with the older man while learning the ropes.
It was Daniel who directed Mykola to Dawnbreak, suggesting the young bitten might have better luck taking up with a pack rather than trying to fend for himself. Uncertain of this course of action, but with little other options, Mykola made himself disappear. He left town without saying any good byes, taking with him only what he could stuff in the cab of his shabby old pick up, and made the haul to Alevskaya.
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