A riddle

Freyge had been sitting in his small apartment that had a lingering smell of various herbs and potions. It just had two rooms, one where he slept and ate and did everything else apart from concocting potions.

Not many werewolves loved to brew, in fact, it was considered a laughable matter to do anything apart from learning to fight and become future alphas of the pack.

Freyge was different, he had never liked fighting. From a young age, his father had taught him the importance of knowing the abundant flora around them. The forest was a treasure trove according to his father and not being able to identify the precious herbs and plants was an utter waste.

He had been an ordinary human who adored his father, who had been a botanist. So it was only natural for him to take a liking to the field. 

Now, he sat in his small apartment in the other room, tinkering with the flasks and beakers creating various potions and concoctions. The book he had been ca

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