Bapaaakwa a' am (It comes from the woods)

I am Wendigo, a depraved and heinous spirit. I am lust, ungreedy and carnage. My emaciated frame defies my voracious appetite. My sunken eyes surge from a gaunt face of passion power. In this vast northern land, a cloak of snow and ice spreads across the breast of a sleeping earth mother. The entirety of this forest is my hunting ground. I snore in the night, turning souls into Wendigo Nishime. The stench of a thousand rotting corpses saturates the air. My long limbs stealthily stride as bones grind beneath my shallow skin. In this season of deepening, a cold wind blows, demoralizing demons within a cryptic chorus of nihuana. A horrific howl of hunger that is never completely satiated, I pursue with cruel indifference my predestined prey. Within you beats the rhythm of dread, an ominous thrum. Your fear echoes like the awaken in the hollow of my discerning ears. My hollow stomach craves beyond redemption the taste of human will. My raging mind is a violent exploration of miscream. I breathe in, with foul and rugged breath, my heightened senses taking in the pungent scent of pine buds and animal urine. I speak in the ancient tongue of Anikou Ichigan to ridicule and harrow throughout the night. My sharp cry for warning comes too late, and in the brief seconds before your demise, you realize I will consume your flesh, and you too will become emptiness, forever hunting. Never appeased. © transcript Emily Beynon © transcript Emily Beynon © transcript Emily Beynon © transcript Emily Beynon © transcript Emily Beynon My sharp cry for warning comes too late, and in the brief seconds before your demise, you realize I will consume your flesh, and you too will become emptiness, forever hunting. Never appeased.