In this task, you're given an article and an answer. Your task is to generate the question for the answer based on the given article.

[EX Q]: Article: Howling is a behavior commonly observed among a wolf nark. An animals, wolves work together to hunt and rely on howling was an important means of communication each other. There are different explants of a wolf's howl and it appears that there may be more to discover. One theory is that wolves howl to bend better together. It's almost as if howling together helps the pack stay together. Perhaps something similar to people feeling a sense of involvement with each other when singing a song together . But this theory may be wrong, explains Fred H. Harington, a professor who studies wolf behavior. Indeed, there have been tines when wolves have been seen one moment howling in a exhorts, and the next, quarreling anions each other. It appears that usually the lowest-tanking menthes of the pack may actually be "punished" for Joining in the churs at times. So is howling a way to strcagthen a social boad or just a way to reconfirm status among its members? ----Why do welves howl for sure? What is cleat, however, is that howling is often used among packmates to locate each other. Hunting grounds are distant and it happens that woloves may separate from one another at times. When this happens, howling appcars to be an ercellent means of gathering. Howling, interestingly, is a contagious behaviour. When one wolf starts to howl, very likely others will follow. This is often seen to occat in the morning, as if wolves were doing some sotr of "roll rall"where wolves all howl togeter to howl, very likely others will follow. This is often seen to occar in the morning, as if wolves were doing w some sotr of "roll call"where wolves all howl together to repotr their pteence.
Answer: The sense of belonging to a group.
[EX A]: .What the por similarity between wolves' how humaes ting in chorus?

[EX Q]: Article: The silent young woman in bed number six is called Jasmine. So am I, but names are only superficial things, floats on the surface of the water, and we share deeper connections than that. That is why she fascinates me--why I spend my off-duty time sitting beside her. Today is difficult. The ward is full of patients and I am kept busy emptying bed-pans, filling out forms, changing dressings. Finally, late in the afternoon, I get a few moments to make coffee, to take it over to the orange plastic chair beside her bed. I am thankful to be off my feet, glad to be in her company once again. "Hello, Jasmine," I say, as if greeting myself. She does not reply. Jasmine never replies. She is down too deep. She has been sea-damaged. I too am the daughter of a fisherman, so I choose my words like fish-hooks, cast them into her ears, imagine them sinking down through cold, dark water. Down to wherever she may be. "I have little time today," I tell her, touching her hair. With Jasmine, it is always difficult not to touch. She is that rare thing, a truly beautiful woman. Because of this, people invent reasons to walk by. I catch them looking, drinking her in, feeding on her. They are barracuda , all of them. Great beauty is something Jasmine and I do not share. I am glad of it. "Your father may be here soon," I say. "Last week he said he would come." Jasmine says nothing. Her left eyelid flickers, perhaps. It is two months since the incident on her father's fishing boat, since she fell overboard, sank, became entangled in the nets. It was some time before anyone noticed, then there was panic. Her father hauled her back on board and sailed for home. When he finally arrived, he carried ashore what he thought was his daughter's body. "Jasmine," I whisper. I want her to take our baited name. I want her to swallow it. Fortunately, there was a doctor in the village that morning, a young man visiting s. It was he who brought this drowned woman back from the brink, he who told me her story. She opened her eyes, he said, looked up at her father and spoke a single word--then sank again, this time into coma. Barracuda. That is what Jasmine said. When her father visits, he touches her hair, kisses her cheek, sits in the orange plastic chair at the side of her bed and holds her hand. Like my own father, he has the big, brown, life-roughened hands of a fisherman. He too smells of the sea, and pretends he is a good, simple man. Jasmine. We share so much, we are almost one. I remember early mornings, my hair touched to wake me, my father lifting me half-asleep from my bed, carrying me, dropping me into his boat. His voice rough in my ear, his hands rough on my skin. I never wanted to go, but I was just a child. He did as he wished. I remember salt water, hot sun, my mother shrinking on the shore. I remember the rocking of the boat, the screams of the seagulls. "Jasmine, you have a life inside you. Can't you hear it calling?" Nothing. The ward door bangs, and I see Jasmine's father walking towards us, carrying flowers. He smiles at me. Even in death, my own child had my father's smile, and Jasmine's will have this man's. I know it. He stops by her bed and touches her hair. Something stirs deep inside me. I watch Jasmine's eyelids, waiting for her to bite.
Answer: Jasmine's father is very pitiful.
[EX A]: Why does the author show special sympathy for Jasmine?

[EX Q]: Article: Darek Fidyka, a 38-year-old Bulgarian, had been paralyzed from the chest down for four years after a knife attack. Scientists from Britain and Poland took cells from his nose, transplanted them into his back and re-grew his spinal cord . Now he can walk and even drive a car. The doctors were delighted but said it was the first step in a long journey. The breakthrough came after 40 years of research by Professor Geoff Raisman, who found that cells had the possibility to repair damage to nasal nerves, the only part of the nervous system that constantly re-grows. "The idea was to take something from an area where the nervous system can repair itself and put it into an area that doesn't repair itself," Professor Raisman said. Polish doctors injected the nasal cells into Mr Fidyka's spinal cord above the injury and used some nerves from his ankle to form a bridge across the damaged tissue. The nasal cells appear to have caused the spinal nerves to repair themselves. Professor Raisman achieved this with rats in the late 1990's, but this is his greatest success. "I think the moment of discovery for me was Christmas in 1997 when I first saw a rat, which couldn't control its hand, put its hand out to me. That was an exciting moment, because I realized then that my belief that the nervous system could be repaired was true." Doctors chose the easiest case for their first attempt--it might not work for others. But there is a real sense of hope that an idea once thought impossible has been realized. David Nicholls, who helped provide money for the breakthrough, said information about the breakthrough would be made available to researchers across the globe. "What you've got to understand is that for three million paralyzed people in the world today, the world looks a totally brighter place than it did yesterday," he said.
Answer: The nervous system in the nose can repair itself.
[EX A]:
Why did Professor Geoff Raisman choose cells from the nose?