"I'm not sure if they're called 'Wendigo Hunters' because they're hunters that resemble wendigos, they actually hunt the fictitious creature, or both." The large man shrugged his burly shoulders, leaning back and taking a swig from his mug.

"Did you know the wendigo symbolizes winter, starvation, and greed?" The smaller man piped up, a finger raised.

"What does that have to do with anything, Jerry?" The burly man retorted.

"Well, maybe the symbolism explains why they dress like wendigos!" Jerry seemed defensive, but Jenny was already turned and walking away.

Their useless conversation was drowned out among the tavern's crowd as she put her journal away, tucking it into her satchel. This place was near pointless and certainly a waste of time. Nobody here knew much more than the people in the last town. It was probably about time that she went out and found some of these answers herself.

Who are the Wendigo Hunters?

Are there really people hunting wendigos?

Do wendigos even exist still?

She shook her head as if that would clear her mind and organize her thoughts. It's no use. Jenny slipped out of the tavern, heading back to the tent she had set up on the outskirts of the town. Unlike the last village, this one was still bustling after dark. People walked the streets by candlelight, be it candles they held or chunks of wax on a somewhat flat surface with a handful of lit wicks. A few of these were on wooden fence posts. Her brows furrowed as she walked by. That seemed like a fire hazard. Looking at the wax and not where she was going, Jenny bumped into an unusually tall man. He was skin and bones, and his limbs seemed longer than they should be. She watched him slowly turn around, a graven expression on his face as if she had nearly killed him. Jenny froze, her eyes going wide as she stuttered for an apology.

"I—I'm sorry, sir—I wasn't watching where I was going—"

"You're that girl looking for the Wendigo Hunters," he said slowly, leaning over her.

Her neck craned to look up at him, his expression now curious and expectant. Jenny could've sworn he seemed taller when he stood so close. There was something else in his brown eyes that frightened her. They were a little too big for their sockets and seemed to shine a little. Maybe that was from the welling tears in her eyes warping her vision.

"Yes," she squeaked out. "Yes, sir, I am."

He leaned back to stand with a satisfied look. "I see…" his voice rumbled soft and quietly. "Well, you're not going to find them at this time of night!" The man practically jumped as he spun 90 degrees away from Jenny. All she could manage was a nod before he continued speaking again. "Call me Devrats, or Dev—or De. Just not rats." He chuckled to himself and began walking off.

Long legs carried long strides, and Jenny nearly had to jog to keep up. Devrats was a strange name, Jenny thought, but figured she was in a newer place, so she was bound to find names different than what she was used to.

"Um, Dev," Jenny began, trying to focus more on speaking than her slower-than-his pace. "Do you know who the Wendigo Hunters are?" She pulled her journal out of her satchel, flipping to a blank page.

"Well, of course!" He bounced forward a couple of steps. "That's where we're going."

"Oh," her voice was small. She began to fall behind, looking at the forest they approached.

Did he really know the Wendigo Hunters?

Were her searches and ventures finally coming to an end?

Was it all really this easy?

She mulled over thoughts of both Dev and the situation before finally asking one of her many questions. "Who are the Wendigo Hunters?" She asked out loud, her voice unintentionally meek.

"Huh?" Devrats looked back at her. "Oh, they're fun! Albeit a little violent, they're very... down-to-earth, if you will." He offered a smile that spread a little too wide.

Something about Devrats unsettled Jenny, but she just smiled back. This is what she wanted and what she's been searching for over the past two years.

"I'm excited to meet them!"

It turns out that the Wendigo Hunters were at least a couple of days' journey into the woods. Jenny and Devrats slept through the days and walked at night, per Devrats request. He often caught food, though she didn't recognize it as fish or even deer. He told her it was a squirrel or bird when she asked, though Jenny never saw any creatures as they travelled.

He told her, "You're not looking hard enough," or "You walk too loudly."

She still found it strange that the mornings were silent, missing chirping birds, and the nights lacked crickets. It was Jenny's job to light the fire each day so she could cook the meat. Devrats seemed to sit just far enough away that Jenny was sure he couldn't feel any of the heat from it.

Finally, they began to approach. The forest thinned out, yet it was growing darker than before. Jenny could barely see the trees in front of her. She stayed close to Devrats as it seemed like he had no problem traversing the woods.

"How do you know where the Wendigo Hunters are?"

He didn't look down, determined and focused. Silence passed, seconds, then minutes.

"Devrats? Dev?" Jenny questioned. "Hello—?"

"Shhh…"

Jenny fell silent as they both came to a halt. Her eyes scanned the trees, but she saw nothing but darkness. A sound caught her attention, and she whipped her head around. A step on old leaves and then breathing. Jenny saw nothing, but she could feel breath on her face. It wasn't hot, like a person's breath would be, and smelled rotted. Like something was dead and decaying. Jenny tried to back away, slowly. She couldn't move much faster than that, as if gravity had increased and was holding her down.

"Devrats..?" She hoped and prayed it was him in front of her. She bumped into something.

"Oh—" It was Devrats. He was behind her. "Now, don't leave."

Still, the foul breath pressed against her face. Her heart drummed in her ears, and she could've sworn it skipped beats when a pair of giant, white eyes opened. Like a pair of lightbulbs that glowed, but didn't illuminate anything.

"Devrats..!" Her tone rose in worry and fear.

"Sorry, Jenny," his tone was remorseful and growing distant. "You were wondering why they call us Wendigo Hunters…"

Us, she thought as she backed away from the glowing eyes. Something grabbed her, long talons digging into her arms. Jenny panicked and tried to rip her arm away. The grip didn't falter, and instead, she felt blood stream down her arm.

"…We hunt for the wendigos. And in return, they let our tribes live in peace."

The sun began to rise over the horizon. There was just enough light to make out the scraggly fur that covered the creature's body, and the silhouettes of antlers protruded from its head. The last thing Jenny saw was the rows of yellowed and blackened teeth as her screams were lost to the forest.

"Perhaps in your next life, you'll be less naive."