You've gotten pretty good at navigating the scummy world of semi-legal relations, and you've learned to distinguish predators and opportunists from those rare people who believe in a kind of lowlife solidarity, and whom you can rely upon for help. You spend an hour prepping for your ride, avoiding people who seem a little too eager or a little too calculating, until you find a local delivery driver heading east.
He's chill, and he takes you all the way to Rochester. That night, you meet a granddad in a beat-up old Volvo who has serial killer glasses but no other serial killer vibes. He takes you east until he reaches his grandson's house in Syracuse.
One guy after that gets really aggressive, demanding a blowjob for a trip to Albany once you're in his pickup. You tell him to fuck off and he takes you anyway, but the drive is tense, and he drops you off in the middle of nowhere. Still, you're making good time, and you snag another ride before you get too cold. And then another.
You're feeling okay, despite your exhaustion. You let your mind wander—just a little—as headlights streak across your vision and the miles count down. You think about the tribes. Clay said that soon after you became a true Garou, you'd start to hear the calls of the Patron Spirits that watch over what's left of the Garou Nation. A mere cub can't join a tribe, but you've thought about each of them over the years. You think about…
The Black Furies, wolves who guard the weak against those who would prey on the vulnerable.
The Bone Gnawers. A tribe of survivors and secret-hunters, mistrusted by other Garou for their ability to survive anywhere, even in the urban wastelands of major cities.
The Children of Gaia, who seek harmony and reconciliation, only shredding through flesh and bone when no other choice is available.
The Hart Wardens, a tribe of laughing warrior-poets dedicated to the untamed beauty and grandeur of the natural world.
The Galestalkers. Tireless Wyrm-slayers, relentless Bane-hunters; patient and brutal.
The Ghost Council. Mystics and seekers, willing to fight the Wyrm using the Wyrm's own dark secrets.
The Glass Walkers. The future: techno-shamans and corporate raiders who pit the Weaver—the cosmic principle of order and machinery—against the depravity of the Wyrm.
The Shadow Lords: ruthless and pragmatic, as hard and cold as mountain peaks. The only werewolves with the courage to make the hard decisions and the brains to carry them out.
The Silver Fangs. Kings of the Garou Nation, once fallen to lethargy and madness, now looking for new blood.
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