"What's a timberwolf?" You ask the bartender.
He smiles at you, almost patronizingly. "It's a house specialty. It uh...tends to have very profound effects on people who drink it. You wanna try it?"
"Sure," you say, eager to try. He turns his back to you-you're a little upset you can't see exactly what bottles he's mixing, but soon he produces a large glass of a clear liquid.
"Here you go pal, bottoms up," he says, passing it over the bar to you. Eagerly, you gulp down the drink, noting that it doesn't really taste of anything in particular. (At least nothing you're familiar with, at any rate.)
At first, you don't really feel anything, but then it hits you. Your head swims madly as your vision greys-out for a moment, then comes back into focus. The colors in the room seem to have faded; they seem somewhat washed-out now. You're also suddenly aware of how hot it is in the bar.
"Want another?" asks the bartender.