I was born and raised in northern Colorado, but my older brother Ben and I were sent to live with our uncle Mathias in Denver when our parents died. I experienced my First Change at the age of seventeen, after witnessing a heated battle in a LoDo alleyway between a group of Brujah vampires and a Silent Strider and a Bagheera. Clearly traumatized by the fact I was now a nine-foot-tall hulking brute covered in black tipped gray fur, I was taken into the back room of "The Tattered Angel", a downtown bar frequented by all manner of supernaturals. It was there I met Walker~of~the~Ways, and earned my name.
Walker~of~the~Ways was (and presumably still is, for I have not seen him in many years) a Philodox of the Get of Fenris sept in Denver. He was a proud man of noble bearing, the very epitome of the Get of Fenris, except for one thing. ...He's black. Now please don't misunderstand, I am not a bigot, nor do I care one wet slap about the color of a man's skin. It's the "color" of his heart that matters. The only reasons I mention it are that almost all of the Get come from Nordic or Germanic stock (read: Vikings) and that's how I got my name.
Well, I asked Walker how it is that a black man is from a tribe of Norse warriors. I could understand my being Get, after all I am a full-blooded German. (don't get any accusatory looks there, Bucko!) After that, things started happening really fast. It was then that I learned that you never question a Get's heritage. You'd do well to remember that. Walker challenged me to see if I was really "Get material". He told me I had one swing, and I'd better make it count, because after that, he got his turn. I hauled back and swung as hard as I could. I popped him pretty good, too. He staggered back and landed on his can. I could see in his eyes that he was amused...and maybe even a little impressed. He got up and looked me up and down, sizing me up. I think he was waiting to see if I'd flinch or show fear. After what I'd seen earlier that night, I wasn't in the mood for fear. I stood there, ready to take the hit, knowing it was going to hurt...probably a lot, but somewhere deep down inside, I knew I had to do this. So I stood there, with a steady gaze, and watched him draw back and punch. He hit me square on the cheek with a force that knocked me to the ground. Damn, but it hurt! I shook it off, stood up, and glared at him defiantly. That was the first time I saw him smile. Then he started laughing, "Ha ha! I knew ya had it in ya, girlie!" He clapped me on the back and rubbed his aching jaw. "I think we'll call you 'Fist~of~Stone'," he said, "'cause you've got a helluva right hook!" Even though I had no idea werewolves existed only hours before, when Walker~of~the~Ways named me, that was the proudest moment of my life. It was a night I'll never forget...although I did for many years.
I met my first pack, the Silent Strider Theurge I met in the alley, a Silver Fang Ahroun, and a Fianna Ragabash named Janus...ah, Janus [smiles inwardly], Fey struck, love struck Janus, friend of my youth. How I miss him! We went through our Rite of Passage someplace in the wilds of Canada. Our Rite of Passage very nearly killed us all. The Elders of the sept decided that, with the end time so close, we would better serve Gaia if we grew up before we took our places in Garou society. Too many "child warriors" were lost to the Wyrm for any more to follow. We took part in the Rite of the Long Winter's Moon, which stripped us of our Garou nature and our memories of being Garou, so we could grow up normally. We were to reclaim our heritage on our 21st birthdays, but my inner wolf slept still. I don't know what became of Janus or the rest of my pack. After high school we got separated, I haven't seen them since.
I went to the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs, and left a pilot and Second Lieutenant. I decided to make the Air Force a career, and I did well. NASA held an open competition for all military pilots to try for three spots on the proposed Mars mission and I applied. I ranked second out of 4,152 applicants. I was going to Mars! I'd tell you more about the 34 months of the mission, but I digress. The story you came to hear is about the Garou, not Mars.
I returned from Mars, things settled down, and everyone forgot about me. Most everyone. I still get the occasional autograph hound, but mostly I'm left alone. I freelance for NASA now, from my new home in Seattle (go Seahawks!!) It was on an investigative mission in South America that I met one Commander Drake Mercer.
Commander Mercer and I hit it off right away. We were the only members of the team with a military background, so we naturally would spend many of our off hours telling old war stories and reliving common experiences. While in the jungles of South America, the wolf sleeping deep inside me awoke. In one thunderous instant, all that I was, all that I had forgotten in the last seventeen years, came flooding back. I was Garou once more! But then, I had picked up where I had left off. I was a 34-year-old Cub. Imagine my shock when I found out that the rest of my team were also Garou! I had been hand-picked for this mission in the hopes of stirring what had remained dormant for so long. I joined this new pack with great relish. Our Alpha was, of course, Commander Mercer, a Silver Fang Philodox. Also in the pack were Jason Ashley Melborne, a Uktena Theurge M.D. (who can unnerve even a Get, I'll tell you!) freelancing for the FBI; Purge, a Glass Walker Theurge, and Niken, a Bone Gnawer Ragabash who likes to pretend he's a Major (calling himself Major Tom) and gets his biggest kick out of making me salute him in social situations.
Melborne, Niken and I have remained together, with Purge floating in and out as she will, for almost two years now. Drake and I fell in love (though neither of us would admit it at the time) but the Litany would always keep us apart. Both Philodoxes, the Keepers of the Ways, we knew what we contemplated was a cardinal sin against the Garou Nation. Being career military helped us define the choices, but it made the decision no easier. We parted company that summer, both knowing that to remain together would only be inviting temptation, and that we could not allow. Sometimes, I go to Mt. Reinier, and I howl for him under our Half Moon. I know that, somewhere, he does the same for me.
Well, that's me, my life up to present. I can only hope you find as much joy, and not as much sorrow, in being Garou. It is a wonderful Gift Gaia has given us, her chosen. And I hope you will relish it as much as I.
THIS IS WHO I AM!