Many wolves looking for relaxation come to Blossom Field. A gentle breeze vibrating the blossoming flowers is quite a sight to see and it is quite a favourite for wolves to come with their mates.

A recent fire has ruined the scenery, half the field covered with soot and marked with scars of the flames. The other half is untouched, however.

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I sigh, and look down. My maw opens to reveal my real accent. "My real name's Katil, meaning assassin in Turkish." I bury my face into the flowers and under my paws and say, "I'm an assassin, and I don't like it now. It's stuck to me." I sneeze loudly and pull my face away from the flowers. I moan and keep my head up.

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