North-West Pacific Region, United States, Early 1800's
Ashitare: A cold wind flows through the village carrying on its breath a few snowflakes. Snow already covers the ground in a thick blanket of white, and a thin layer of ice edges the river near the village. The quiet sound of water flowing over gray rocks barely disturbs the silence of the night. Within the confines of their homes, the Indians of the region tell the stories of their ancestors: of how once man and beast were one.
Suddenly the stillness of the night is shattered by a howl. Part wolf howl part scream of the damned, it rolls through the cold brittle air. A huge shadow moves between the buildings of the village and the people huddle within their homes. Suddenly, the clouds laden with snow part bathing the world in the silver light of a full moon. Several crystalline stars sparkle brightly in the frozen air.
The huge shadowy figure raises up on hind legs to sniff the air. He is neither wolf, nor human but a mixture of both. Around his wrists and feet hang huge metal chains that may have at one time served the purpose of hauling logs from the river. At his feet several timber wolves circle quietly trampling the white snow, their breaths making frosty plumes in the air.
Outlined by the moon, totem poles stand watch over the scene. The man-wolf pauses before one and looks at its carved surface. The figures of the bear, the eagle, the raven, and lastly, the wolf watch the world with painted eyes. The huge man-wolf suddenly throws his head back and howls. The wolves at his feet join him in a chorus of pain, and the village medicine man, safe within the confines of his home, closes his heart to pain in those howls.