Forget the memories of your first teenage rage. They're like a giant pimple in your brain. Now, what matters is the present. You sniff the air. The only thing that stands out is the horse's scent, mixed with the death scent of your target.
The horse and rider in arctic camouflage glide through the dead trees, as if the scene were choreographed for a gothic music video. It's time to act. And this time, it's for real. Clay told you you've disappointed him twice. Apparently, you have the same success rate as a government project. He wants you to join the pack for real, but not as a loser. Not as a burden. You know he'll abandon you in the woods if you fail.
Everything you've done these past few weeks—the hours of boredom, the canned food, the smell of sweat and desperation—has led you to this glorious moment. The moment to destroy this monster.
You picked the right night. The moon shining in the sky is the same one that witnessed your First Change. A moon that gives you strength and focus. That transforms you into one of Gaia's champions. Which, let's be honest, is a fancy way of saying you're a dog with anger issues.
The Garou. The werewolves. A noble race of warriors who fight against darkness. Or, in your case, a lone wolf who's going to try to kill a guy with a spear in the middle of nowhere, while the rest of the pack is who knows where, probably eating pizza and laughing at your impending failure.
It's your time to prove that you're not just a burden, but a true wolf. Prepare for glory or, more likely, to become another joke at your pack's poker table.