From words carried by Luna's Choir of Secrets;

Still splashed in his victim's blood, auspice's balanced moon above, newly birthed Elodoth followed where experienced alpha led. Through the night they would drive, leaving old life behind, the Silver Syndicate’s territory safe refuge to learn new ways.

"Here, take this blanket. We'll sort you out with new clothes when we reach Denver."

"Denver? What's in Denver?"

"My pack. My businesses. People that can help you understand the instincts that have been calling all of your life."

"You ... you called me a werewolf. That's insane ... but it's true isn't it? I ... I felt myself ... change ... and the moon. Why is the moon burning so brightly?"

"Take it easy and listen to me. There is a past you need to learn about, a forgotten history that men do not remember: This story is true. In the time of Pangaea, when the world was still young, human and spirit lived close together. In those ancient days Urfarah - Father Wolf - patrolled the Border Marches, keeping each kind in its proper place, hunting those who strayed too far. It was a glorious time, but even the reign of great Father Wolf could not last forever ..."

The old tale was told - the love of Father Wolf and Mother Moon, the famous hunts of the First Pack, the dwindling of mighty ancestor's power and the terrible crime of infamy, that act of patricide that raised the Gauntlet and forever cursed Forsaken tribes.

"... so that's what we are. Father Wolf's descendants. Part human, part wolf - but so much more than both. Beings of both the physical and spiritual realms - blessed with Father Wolf's Rage and Mother Moon's changing form. Charged with a sacred duty to maintain the hunt and uphold our tribal vows."

Wise Elodoth listened with silent patience, his werewolf soul recognising truth in all he heard. The pretence of limited human ways never satisfied the yearning of young Uratha's heart, "It all sounds - feels - right, but this Rage, the need to hunt, how do I control it? I ... I ripped that poor girl to shreds. I won't become a monster. I would rather be dead than commit such horror again."

"Losing control of the Rage is a risk we all face, but you can learn discipline to help. The biggest mistake you could make at this point is to deny the call of your werewolf soul. You need to find Harmony, recognise the urges within you and harness them. Trust me, there are things out there that deserve to feel your fury, and when you face them, you'll be grateful for the chance to unleash its full strength."

From the howls of Dana Truth -Seeker;

This story is true. Listen, spirits and brothers, to the tale of my first days among the Uratha.

Parting from my aunt has been a terrible heart ache, we all know the grief of leaving loved ones behind, but I’m revelling in my new existence among our People. I had thought myself well-prepared and well-educated, but I've quickly discovered that I'm still just an ignorant pup with much to learn. Knowing the history of Father Wolf and the duties of our Tribes is one thing, feeling the full power of werewolf strength and heightened senses is turning out to be quite another.

And the magic of the spirit world! First Shadow Cast's lessons may as well have been children's fairy tales compared to the living reality since my Change. My wise tutors haven't allowed me to cross the Gauntlet yet, inexperienced as I am, but even standing near a locus and peering into the Shadow Realm offers an exhilaration that no human will ever feel. Subtle Storm taught me a first Rite today - the Rite of Dedication. You elders probably treat it as a simple trick, but my mind was buzzing as I performed the prescribed acts and felt the flow of Essence. It has left me hungry for the chance to discover greater secrets.

Learning from the Silver Syndicate is an honour that is not lost on me. Roman's campaign to unite the packs against Gurdilag is the stuff of legend. The man himself is awe-inspiring. Even in his Hishu form he cuts a tall and powerful figure, emphasised by expensive suits of the business world. His charisma is almost tangible - no one can dispute his alpha status among this pack. I know that not all our People agree with his philosophies, but after meeting him, I can’t imagine how anyone could mistrust his passion for a united Uratha society. I would be proud to serve in his pack, but he has dropped hints of other plans for my future.

I’m not the only freshly changed werewolf to be taken under Roman’s protection. Last week their pack brought in Danny Walker, a young pup blessed with the Half Moon’s auspice. His calm self-assurance is impressive. I saw him when he was first brought in - his clothes in tatters and dried blood staining his hands and chest. Clearly his First Change had been traumatic and although his new life was only hours old, even then he carried himself with a sense of quiet confidence and pride. Maybe it’s part of the balance carried by all our Elodoth brothers.

We have spent most of the last few days together while I tell him the tales of our history, the lore of Father Wolf and the sacred duties we must fulfil. Danny makes an excellent audience. He’s the most intense listener I have ever met and he’ll always follow up with insightful questions. It’s as though he has been going through life as an empty vessel, waiting to be filled with knowledge that only the Uratha can provide. I am honoured to have a part in his education, affirming my Cahalith calling as loremaster.

We Cahalith may be masters or lore and the Ithaeur wise in their rituals, but the Rahu and Irraka are kings of the hunt. Both Danny and I are receiving training in the practical skills necessary for our survival. In time, shifting between forms might come naturally, but for now it still needs practice and effort. At least I grew up among other Uratha. I had seen my aunt take her wolf and near-human forms and have some experience to guide my instincts. Being raised in the shelter of humanity, Danny has had no guidance until now. It’s taking him a while to get the hang of his new abilities, but he can not deny that the rewards are worth the effort.

The world comes alive in completely new ways before the full range of a werewolf’s senses. Hearing is not just more acute - it can pinpoint the softest of sounds to within a few yards. Sight may lose some definition of colour, but a wolf’s eyes are sharp to the slightest of movements. And smell! There aren’t adequate human words to express the depths of information available to an Urhan nose. It’s an amazing thing when you stand in a crowded city and catch your prey’s scent - able to tell not only when he passed, but where he fled and even how he was feeling. No wonder so many of our kind feel limited in their human forms.

Combat inevitably becomes a regular part of all our lives. The incredible physique and natural weapons of our Gauru form give us a huge advantage in most fights, but when our enemies include the Pure Tribes, the Spider Hosts and violent spirits, it pays to know the pack’s strengths and weaknesses. With a body that can heal its wounds so rapidly, mock combat can afford to be a full-blooded affair. Bouts between Danny and I served not only to hone our fighting techniques, but to highlight the dangers of the Death Rage. Many tragic tales are told of fierce warriors who have turned on their packmates in a maddened craze. May Mother Luna keep us safe from such a fate.

And so my training continues. They call us Forsaken, but with the inheritance of our ancestors, gifts from the spirits and support from our packmates, even the weakest Uratha can stand strong as we hunt between the worlds of spirit and flesh.

From Max Roman's records of the Silver Syndicate;

The hunt is at the centre of everything we do, everything we are. It is time for the pups to get their claws bloody. A Sacred Hunt will test all the skills they have been taught. Can they track their prey? Hunt him down and gain victory in battle? Can they show enough wisdom to keep the Oaths of the Moon as they pursue their quarry?

Darkness of Shadows will be summoned by our Rites. He is a clever spirit of stealth and malevolence, but one who learned his place beneath my claws a long time ago. This hunt will take place across the physical boundaries of the pack’s territory, with Darkness of Shadows materialised in his preferred form of the great black cat. Several of the pack will follow to monitor the chase, but the hunt and final kill are to be down to Dana and Danny alone.

Darkness of Shadows knows better than to violate the bans imposed by our Rites, but the young Cahalith and Elodoth will be fools if they think the night’s activities are some simple childish game. This spirit is cunning and dangerous. It will take full advantage of any opportunity to humiliate or harm inexperienced newcomers to our ranks.

From the howls of Dana Truth -Seeker;

This story is true. Listen, spirits and brothers, to the tale of this werewolf's first hunt.

With my own Gibbous Moon hanging brightly in the sky, Danny and I were called to the powerful locus at the heart of Max Roman's domain. His entire pack were already there, standing around the edges of the room in Dalu or Urhan forms. Roman turned to us with a mocking smile of challenge. Tonight we were to prove our place as hunters - demonstrate that we had mastered new skills or bring shame through our failure. Beside me, Danny tensed at the implied insult, but he wisely remained quiet as our prey was called forth.

Andrea Waters stepped forward. Her clawed finger used blood to draw boundary lines on a map of the local Denver area. Flames were used to burn the map and then every light in the room extinguished except for one pale, flickering candle. As our own dark shadows danced on the room’s walls, she howled in the First Tongue - calling down a spirit and proclaiming the right of the Uratha to enforce Father Wolf’s ancient duties. I could not help but join in with her final howl, my blood burning as I sensed the Essence flow of ritual magic.

With our senses alive we could see the locus ripple and a dark ephemeral form slip into the Twilight edges of our world. The insubstantial blackness grew deeper - and heavier - becoming solid and coalescing into the very real physical form of a massive feline predator. It looked like some great panther, but a stylised unreal version. Shadows seemed to trail from it and a smoky scent lingered in its wake. 'Darkness of Shadows' was the name given to the spirit by Roman. The creature hissed its resentment at being so rudely summoned, but acquiesced before the alpha's growls. Roman spoke words in the First Tongue and the spirit nodded, giving a final snarl of defiance before padding softly from the room and out into Denver's night.

This hunt would belong to Danny and I. After half an hour's lead we would be set loose to track down and slay our quarry. Roman's face grew stern as he reminded us of the Oaths of the Moon: The Wolf Must Hunt, Respect Your Prey, The Herd Must Not Know. This was a ritual hunt. Darkness of Shadows was bound by terms of the rite, but so were we. When we destroyed its physical body and harvested the bounty of its Essence as reward, we must ensure that its spiritual form was left intact to reform in its native domain. Acting otherwise would be a grave dishonour and violation of sacred customs. All spirits have a ban - a code of behaviour that can be their greatest weakness. As a spirit of darkness, this creature's ban must surely concern light. The assembled pack smiled at my guess, but would give no confirmation. Danny kept silent, sitting with eyes closed and meditating on the coming task.

When the allotted time had passed we set off in pursuit, assuming our Dalu near-human forms. We could both taste the elusive odour which hung in the air with the spirit's passing. Danny may have been slow to master Uratha senses, but his knowledge of human cities far exceeds mine. He unerringly led our chase, quick to spot the empty alleys and underpasses which the spirit would have been forced to use, avoiding the crowded gatherings and busy roads of humanity. At times I might have lost the trail, but Danny's skill pushed us onwards until we reached a chain-link fence surrounding a corporate office block.

Together we surveyed the terrain. A wide asphalt courtyard of parking spaces surrounded the building. Its reception area and several upper floors were well illuminated despite the late hour. Uniformed security guards were huddled for company at the main gates and occasionally marched a circuit of the perimeter. The scent laid by the spirit drifted towards the rear of the building and our sharpened sight spotted its entrance - a small grilled window near ground level had been left slightly ajar. It would be a tight squeeze for a human body, but a cat - or wolf - could easily slide through. Shifting to Urhan bodies, we jumped the fence and closed in.

The strength of our packs is teamwork. Individuals working in harmony, instinct guiding actions faster than thought. Danny was only half-way to the window when a guard rounded the corner and caught him in the beam of his flashlight. Without hesitation I sprang forward and clamped my teeth around the arm that was fumbling towards his pistol. Danny followed in an instant, leaping up and bowling the man to the ground, knocking breath from his lungs before he could shout for aid. I could feel adrenalin and primal fury surging through me, but I mastered the rage. Changing back to Dalu, a kick to the head subdued the guard to unconsciousness - no need for greater bloodshed. Danny growled low in supremacy, hackles bristling, his tail held proudly aloft. We shared a moment's exaltation and camaraderie, thrilling from our first small victory.

I took the guard's flashlight and shifted back to Dalu after we entered the building - if the spirit's ban did concern light then the torch could prove useful. Danny remained in wolf form. It is the wisdom of the Elodoth to see the world from all points of view. A spirit in a feline body could not navigate elevators or locked doors. A human might overlook such details, by staying on four legs Danny would not. The scent led down a stairwell towards the basement. Tension was mounting and we knew we must be getting closer. Just as we stepped off the stairs every light around us was suddenly snuffed out without warning - ceiling lights, emergency signs, even the flashlight. We were plunged into a deep, velvety darkness - this was spiritual magic. Darkness of Shadows was near.

There was the faintest of sounds from behind and then I was struck by a tremendous impact. Strong limbs wrapped about my body, pinning my hands and smothering my face against a heavy chest. Even with the build and extra strength of Dalu form, I couldn't break free. Blood was pumping loudly in my ears, my heart racing. I was choking, air forced from my lungs by the constricting grasp. The creature didn't release me until I fell to the floor, barely conscious and shifting reflexively to vulnerable Hishu form. That was its mistake.

Even in our frail human disguise we know the benefits of werewolf blood. My body was healing its wounds even as I stood and opened myself to the awesome power of the Gauru war form. Danny was already in Gauru, his claws and fangs ripping into a faint silhouette even blacker than the surrounding gloom. I joined him in the attack and within minutes it was over. Lights flickered back on, revealing a vortex of swirling shadows which dispersed to fill us with invigorating Essence.

We drank deeply of the spiritual energy (remembering not to wholly consume our worthy prey). Never have I felt so alive. Truly we are creatures of the hunt. Tonight, for the first time, we understood what it was to be one of the Uratha.