The figure watches you from the frosty clearing, its pale eyes watching your movements like a panther stalking its prey. Yet for some reason he doesn’t salivate over the presence of fresh meat and his heart doesn’t pound from the thunderous sound of your own heartbeat or the blood rushing through your body. Instead the Wendigo’s heart aches and yearns for something more… innocent?

It feels a wave of warmth surge through its body, a stark contrast to the billowing snow threatening to engulf the trees and ground in its wintry embrace. He must get closer.