ANTLERS MEET TEETH | Werewolf vs Wendigo in Frozen Pines

he Blood-Pine Basin has been silent for eleven years—since the last survey crew stumbled out of the river gorge reeking of sap and raw terror. Now five pairs of boots crack the ice crust at the eastern timber line, and Maren's headlamp reveals what no one believed: deep parallel slash-marks carved by something that still roams these frozen pines. Something she calls Torak. But Torak is not alone tonight. A gaunt, emaciated wendigo—ribs cracking under its own starving weight, antlers splintering like dry kindling—lunges from the snowdrifts into the apex lycanthrope's path. What follows is a nine-foot collision of serrated claws against bone-thin fur, blood mist exploding across sub-zero silence while three cowering human trackers watch through smoking rifle barrels beneath a bruised violet sky shedding ice crystals. The River Valley Pact was never meant to be broken this way. 🛡️ SUBSCRIBE to WOT for daily audio dramas.