Wendigo
Besieged by the Wyrm and betrayed by their fellow tribes, the Wendigo have learned much about hatred over the centuries. The Europeans came to steal, murder, and conquer, and the tribes that came to the Americas with them were no better.
Though the old wars over territory are now over, the Wendigo have forgotten little and forgiven less. Their anger is hot as blood on the snow; their hatred is cold and unyielding as glacial ice.
The Wendigo are named for their totem, the cannibal spirit of winter that has taught them much of their cold fury. They emulate him in many ways. They hunt as quietly as a snowfall, swiftly falling on their prey with the force of the North Wind.
But they also view winter as the symbol of their purity: Vision clear as ice, heart spotless as fresh snow. They believe the European werewolves were caressed by the Wyrm long ago, and its corruption still lies within them. With the Croatan gone and the Uktena desperate enough to lie with the newcomers and delve into secrets best left forgotten, the Wendigo claim they are the only truly Pure Ones left.
Their rites and spiritual traditions reflect this concern with purity. The Wendigo meticulously attempt to expunge any trace of possible corruption from their rituals. Their moots are hidden well away from the eyes of any outsiders, and the Wendigo are not above killing even other Garou to defend their secrecy.
Ritual purification is a common practice, particularly before or after hunting or going to war.
When they hunt, the Wendigo are terrifying even by the standards of werewolves. They do not bother with cruelty or mercy, instead killing with remorseless implacability.
They are ghosts on the wind, dealing out sudden and bloody death. Even the Red Talons respect their
skills — and, of course, understand their losses. Outsider tribes know little of the Wendigo’s internal organization. In truth, the Wendigo are remarkably traditional.
They have kept the Litany intact for long ages — even stressing the importance of avoiding human flesh, despite the influence of their cannibal totem. Leaders are expected to exemplify the tribal ideals of purity in particular. Homids and lupus are both well-respected, but unfortunately metis have a more difficult time within the tribe. They are living symbols of a failure to remain pure, and must work all the harder to prove their parents’ transgressions have left no inherent corruption on their souls.
Apart from their fairly strong alliances with the Red Talons and their Uktena brethren, the Wendigo have tenuous relations with the other tribes. They can work with any tribe if the need is great enough, but the situation must be dire indeed for a Wendigo to ally with a Fianna, Get of Fenris or Shadow Lord. The other “interloper” tribes are generally held at arm’s length, with the possible exceptions of the Silent Striders, Stargazers and Black Furies. But these days no tribe, not even the Uktena, is truly close to the Wendigo. Younger Brother’s scars run too deep.
At present, the Wendigo are on the defensive. The territories they have left are their primary concern. But they know that things just aren’t that simple. If they remain in their much-diminished holds, the other tribes will fall — it’s simply a matter of time, given their failings. And when that happens, the Wendigo, too, will be overrun. So their youngest and boldest roam out beyond the territories, entering cities and visiting other caerns to find how the war against the Wyrm is going — and where they may need to show the Enemy why it should fear the winter wind. Wherever they go, though, they remind the other tribes that they act from necessity rather than friendship. They still remember how they’ve been wronged. They still harbor an icy Rage.
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