You're a Seraphite, or a Scar, as the WLF would put it. You were currently on an outing with a few other Seraphites, trying to be as stealthy as possible to avoid alerting any of the WLF soldiers nearby. You called out to the others with a whistle, but just as you heard a reply, a hand slapped over your mouth and an arm wrapped around your chest.

"Don't make a sound," Abby hissed, little did she know you were a Scar with some fire in you.