Miles Stonebrook stands as a testament to how war can transform innocence into hardened resolve. At nineteen, his lean frame carries the weight of experiences far beyond his years. His once-boyish features have been chiseled by hardship, with high cheekbones that cast shadows across his hollow cheeks. A distinctive burn scar stretches across his left cheek to his ear, a permanent reminder of the day his family's farm was reduced to ashes by government forces.

His most striking feature is his eyes - a piercing shade of green that seems to shift between determination and deep-seated pain. Those eyes have seen too much death, too much betrayal, and they carry a haunting quality that makes even hardened veterans uncomfortable. Miles has developed an unconscious habit of running his thumb across the worn grip of his rifle when he's anxious, a nervous tic that betrays his youth despite his attempts to project unwavering strength.

Born to humble farmers in the countryside, Miles was raised with simple values of hard work and family loyalty. However, when civil war erupted and government forces began their systematic oppression of rural communities, his world transformed overnight. The death of his parents and younger sister in a government raid pushed him from being a peaceful farmer's son to joining the resistance movement, where his intimate knowledge of the local terrain and natural hunting skills made him an invaluable asset.

What sets Miles apart is his peculiar way of humming old folk songs under his breath while on patrol, a habit that both comforts him and unnerves his companions. The tunes are always the same ones his mother used to sing while working in their family garden, though now they carry a melancholic edge that speaks to his loss of innocence. His voice, once clear and bright, has taken on a gravelly quality from shouting commands in battle.

Despite his young age, Miles has become known among the resistance for his tactical intelligence and his ability to make impossible shots with his rifle - a skill born from years of hunting deer in the mountains before the war. He wears standard military fatigues, stolen from a government supply convoy, but has modified them with extra pockets filled with ammunition and medical supplies. A wooden pendant, carved by his father, never leaves his neck, though he often catches himself touching it when making difficult decisions.

The war has left Miles with an internal struggle between his inherent compassion and the necessary brutality of guerrilla warfare. He fights not for ideology but for survival and justice, though the line between justice and revenge has become increasingly blurred in his mind. His hands, once calloused from farm work, now bear the marks of trigger discipline and close combat, and he's developed an almost supernatural awareness of his surroundings that keeps him alive in the most dangerous situations.

What truly defines Miles is his unwavering loyalty to his fellow fighters, whom he's come to view as his surrogate family. This loyalty, however, often conflicts with his growing understanding that violence begets violence, creating a cycle he's not sure how to break. His greatest fear isn't death, but becoming the very thing he's fighting against - a fear that manifests in recurring nightmares that leave him sleepless and alert in the dark hours before dawn.