We had gone on several hunts over a few months, and we finally had caught the bear's scent. They told me of a legend from their culture that they believe had caused the aftermath we had seen of the family from when we first set out. They call it a skinwalker, or wendigo, I can’t say for sure which one since they sound like the same creature by their descriptions. But no matter which I face, I know I will most likely not come back to my family alive. We continued on through a dense forest in the middle of winter. I was freezing my balls off even with layers and layers of fur on me. I’m writing to talk about how we have gotten lost in the woods, and that our food is running low. We have been hunting this creature for days now, faintly hearing screams and gusts of wind as something runs past us. This creature started to take some of the hunting party members one by one, going for the ones that were staying up to watch the rest. We had a party of thirty, now we have twenty. We lost ten men in just four nights. I had feared I would be the first to go, but it seems it wants the Indians first before it takes me. My sanity is slowly going. I can’t think straight because of this hunt and the creature. I just want to see my wife and kids again if I am to die.

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