Lion Head Mesa Restless City

A mountain of a wolf was typically that of a warlord. At least, that's what some of his brothers used to say. Odd, they said, that a giant like him would prefer to use his might to build gardens than to use his strength for battle. That wasn't Haizel, no. He hated violence and was still a bit ashamed of himself for being unable to calm... anyone. It got him thinking: had he even made friends since coming here? The giant's mind wasn't in the happiest of places in light of those events, so he'd devoted himself to his flowers and work to keep his mind occupied.

What was he doing at that moment? He had just finished the delicate process of fiddling with the dirt around where Akashingo's future royal garden would be. The doe-pelted man started to mix in the dirt he'd gathered from the nearby forest, but he needed more to cover the entire area. He'd have to go back.

However... Um... hi, he woofed to another, though he found it difficult to muster his usual fanfare of excitement and a dizzying tail. My name's Haizel. What's yours?