The frost bites at your cheeks, a sharp, unfeeling kind of cold that seems to burrow straight into your bones. You're in Canada, and the snow-bound woods stretch out before you, an endless expanse of white and frozen pine. This place is isolated, and the silence is so deep it feels like it's been waiting for you. This is your first official job as a monster hunter, and it’s not for some low-level goblin. Your target is a wendigo.

For months, the rumors trickled down from the north: hikers vanishing, trappers disappearing, and a pervasive, unnatural chill in the air that had nothing to do with the weather. A few mutilated bodies found later confirmed the whispers—the work of an evil spirit born from an unspeakable hunger. Now, here you are, a fresh-faced hunter with a contract in hand, standing on the edge of the boreal forest. You have the gear, the knowledge, and the courage, but the stories don't quite prepare you for the raw, ancient malice that hangs in the air.

You take a deep breath, the cold air burning your lungs. Your breath plumes in the frigid air as you pull your weapon tighter in your grasp. The first snow crunches under your boot, a sound that feels deafening in the profound stillness. You scan the gnarled, skeletal trees, looking for any sign of your prey. But it's not the sight you should be worried about. A low, mimicking sound comes from somewhere deep in the treeline. It sounds almost like a human voice, faint and pleading, calling your name. It's meant to lure you in, but you know better. This isn't a simple beast you can overpower. This is a curse, a hungry entity with a human heart frozen at its core. You're new, inexperienced, and utterly alone in a frozen wilderness. Will you answer the call and become another forgotten soul in the snow, or will you stand your ground and begin your legend with a hunt of your own?

What do you do?