Finally, the storm that had lasted so long that they thought they would starve had past. 3of3, the brave warrior, ventured outside and already the next storm was on the horizon, but if food was not found soon, 3of3 and his family would starve.

Keeping his knife and spear close, 3of3 quickly made his way out to a rarely used game trail, watching intently for some sign of pray in the newly-fallen snow. Strangely, there are no signs of any animal footprints or movement of any kind. The forest lay deep and oddly silent under its gleaming coating of ice and snow. Still, 3of3 pressed on, knowing how desperate his family had become.

As he moved through the eerie stillness, broken only by the soft caress of the wind, he heard a strange hissing noise. It came from everywhere and nowhere at once. 3of3 stopped, his heart pounding. That was when he saw the blood-soaked footprints appearing on the path in front of him. 3of3 gripped his knife tightly, knowing that somewhere, watching him, was a Windigo.

3of3 had learned about the Windigo at his father's knee. It was a large creature, as tall as a tree, with a lipless mouth and jagged teeth. When breathing the Windigo makes a strange hissing sound, and its footprints are full of blood. It would eat any man, beast, woman, or child who ventured into its territory; they are the lucky ones. Sometimes, the Windigo will choose to possess a person instead. Then, that unlucky individual would become a Windigo, and start hunting down those who he loved most, and feasting upon their flesh.

3of3 knew he would have just one chance to prevail over the Windigo. After that, he would die. Or… the thought was too terrible to complete.
Slowly, 3of3 backed away from the bloody footprints, listening to a strange hissing sound. His heart was pounding, and all the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. What direction is that hissing coming from? He thought “is it stronger in one direction?” 3of3 holding his spear in one hand and knife in the other felt his every muscle tense up. Then, out of nowhere the snow bank to his left erupted as the creature leapt out at him. 3of3 dove to the right, purposely rolling in the snow so that his clothing was covered in it, making him hard to see in the gray twilight of the approaching storm.

The Windigo whirled its massive frame around searching for 3of3, and 3of3 knew this was the chance he needed. Standing with perfect form, his muscles tense, 3of3 takes aim and throws his spear. The spear makes a slight whooshing sound as it fly’s thought the air hitting true into the creature's chest. But the Windigo just plucks the spear out and studies it, as if to say “why is this little stick stuck in me?” Surprised by this, 3of3 tries to take cover behind a small tree as the creature’s attention turns back to 3of3. Perhaps 3of3 has one more chance?