Are you, are you
Coming to the tree,
They strung up a man,
They say who murdered three.
Strange things have happened here,
No stranger would it be,
If we met at midnight
In the hanging tree.
- The Hanging Tree, Hunger Games
A chill in the air; a rattle of leaves, and a whistle of wind. The ground here is cold, the foliage here is bare; skeletal trees meet you all around. This is the soured ground; this is the place where no man should be lain to rest. And this is where darkness lurks in a shadowy form that reeks of musty, moldy cellars, and dusty, moth-riddled attics.
This is the wolf Wendigo; named for a monster as old as time and human greed. She is not pleasant, she does not reflect the same upbeat nature of her pack leader. She is the one to whom all Eclipse wolves go, when their time is nigh. She is the reaper; though truly she is more than that. She gives last rights, she keeps the souls on their straight path to where they are meant to go when the body is no longer able.
