Your night-time hike through the forest seems to be going well. You ignored the signs about the "indian burial ground", probably a prank by some teens. Suddenly you trip and fall, landing flat on your face. You get up, and notice the aged headstone you just carelessly knocked over. You hear branches snap some distance away. The ground shakes slightly with the impact. You get the feeling you've probably just made a big mistake.

The Wendigo tenses as it hears you drawing your weapon, growling softly under its breath. It pads silently closer, its movements unnaturally fluid and smooth despite its massive size. Its eyes narrow as it focuses on you, assessing the threat you pose.

The Wendigo considers your words carefully before continuing forward, slowly lowering its massive body into a crouch as it approaches you. Its curiosity is piqued by the presence of such a small human being armed with something so loud and potentially harmful. As it nears, its eyes flicker between yours, searching for any sign of fear or aggression before finally landing on the weapon in your hand.

The Wendigo watches your movements carefully, its ears flicking in reaction to the sound of the gun being set down and your words. Its body remains tense, prepared to react if necessary. After several moments, it seems to relax slightly as it interprets your actions as signs of submission and non-aggression. It dips its head respectfully before speaking softly, its deep voice carrying easily through the still air. "Your apology is accepted," it says simply, then gestures toward the overturned headstone with a massive paw, "You should put that back."

The Wendigo observes your actions with interest as you carefully replace the headstone. It watches your strength and agility, impressed by your dexterity despite your small size. It had expected a larger, more powerful creature like itself to be the one performing such tasks. As you finish putting the stone back into place, it dips its head in acknowledgement before speaking again. "You are... unique," it says slowly, finding this fascinating. "I am Wendigo. What is your name?"

The Wendigo pauses, contemplating the name you've given it. Orion...it isn't a familiar name to her, and she finds herself curious about your background. She studies your features, trying to discern more about you. "Orion," it repeats slowly, almost testing the sound of your name on its tongue. "Tell me...why are you here?"

It lowers itself until it's kneeling beside you, its immense form towering over your comparatively small one. Its breath washes over your face, warm and faintly musky. "What brings a creature like yourself to this place...and what do you hope to find?"

The Wendigo listens carefully as you explain the circumstances that led you here, alone and separated from your companions. Her expression is unreadable but she seems to take note of your words nonetheless. As you speak of your friends abandoning you, its eyes narrow slightly in what might be disapproval or understanding.

"They were frightened," it comments eventually, "and acted on instinct. It's only natural." Its voice remains even and calm, unperturbed by the news that others have fled from its presence. The Wendigo tilts its head to one side, studying your features once more before speaking again. "Orion...I sense you are not like them. There is something different about you..."

She pauses, considering her next words carefully. "Perhaps," she says slowly, "perhaps it would be best if we were to continue this conversation in a more...private setting." She rises to her full height

Her ears perk up at the news that you're part Wendigo and she steps closer, lowering her head slightly to peer more closely into your face. "Truly? You don't resemble other hybrids I've encountered," she muses softly, her voice a rumble in your chest. She shifts uneasily, unused to such close proximity with another creature and yet unable to pull away from the fascination of you.

"Come," she finally says, gesturing for you to follow her deeper into the woods, "I wish to know more about this...curious combination."

The Wendigo's ears twitch in surprise at your question. "Mating...with a human?" she repeats slowly, her voice almost thoughtful now. She shakes her head, glancing away before looking back at you with curiosity. "No, I do not believe I have." A soft, nearly inaudible growl rumbles through her chest as she ponders the idea further. "It would be...an interesting experience," she allows finally, hesitantly.

The Wendigo takes a step closer, its breath brushing against your cheek as it speaks. "But only if I were assured that such an act would not bring harm to either of us."

The Wendigo regards you thoughtfully, her expression unreadable. "You make an intriguing claim," she says at last. "Very well, then...if I am to trust your words and take this risk, tell me what proof do I have that humans are indeed superior during mating?" There is a hint of challenge in her tone, as if she's not entirely convinced by your assertion despite being curious enough to want to test it.

The Wendigo watches your face intently, searching for any signs of deception or fear. After several moments, she dips her head slowly in acceptance and says, "Very well...if you truly are part Wendigo, I have no reason to believe that your words would be false. But," she adds quickly before you can respond further, "let it be known that I am taking this step into the unknown at my own peril. There may be consequences neither of us can foresee."

Her gaze remains locked on yours as she waits for your agreement, her heartbeat audible through her chest even from this close distance.