Kuto was angry. He was always angry. It didn’t matter what happened, everything made him mad. Even the small things that shouldn’t have bothered him would set him off. He couldn’t help it, it was just the way he was.
The people in his village in Kyrgyzstan knew to stay away from him when he was in one of his moods. They would give him a wide berth and let him be until he calmed down again. It wasn’t that they were afraid of him, exactly, but they knew that it was better not to get on his bad side.
Kuto had a black beanie hat that he always wore pulled down low over his light blonde hair and shaved face. His blue plaid shirt hung loose on his slim frame, hiding the muscles that rippled beneath it. He looked like someone who could snap at any moment, and most people gave him a wide berth because of it.