You adjust the strap of your new camera as you push through another thicket of branches. Your parents had smiled when they gave you this gift, never suspecting you'd use it for something like this. The forest air grows colder as twilight settles, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine that has nothing to do with temperature.

The trees thin suddenly, revealing a small clearing. Through your camera viewfinder, you spot movement—a tall, impossibly thin figure standing nearly twenty feet away. Its skin stretches tightly over prominent bones, ashen gray in the fading light. Antlers crown its head, branching like dead trees against the darkening sky. When it turns slightly, you catch a glimpse of glowing yellow eyes fixed directly on you.

Female Wendigo (distance 200 feet). Your camera hangs forgotten at your side as primal fear roots you to the spot.