Everything

“What do you mean, it's dangerous? Don't be silly! Watch, I'll show you. See? It's not that cold. I feel fine. Come on, we don't have all day… whoops, did I forget to mention that ice water can't touch me? It must have slipped my mind. I guess you Wyrmspawn freaks might end up with hypothermia, huh? That's too bad. Oh yes, I know what you are. And you're a long way from help. No, you stay down there like good fomori and freeze to death.”

“Just take my word for it. I can't explain how I know. I just know. It'll happen. My instincts are never wrong. Yes, okay, I'm crazy. Like I haven't heard that one a million times. Fine, go ahead. I'll say, 'I told you so' later.”

“I used to be afraid to go off by myself. They kept telling me to scout ahead, and I hated it. But now that I can howl and they'll come running even if they're far away, I feel okay about scouting. It makes me the pack canary sometimes, but I don't even mind… mostly.”

“You think you're paranoid? You ain't seen nothing. Not ‘til you can be anyone, at any time. Walk among them and wear their faces. You start realizing anybody could be doing what you do, anybody could be the enemy. You start seeing shadows in broad daylight. Plus, the more you walk around as anybody and everybody, the easier it is to forget who you're supposed to be. But hey, if not me, then who's gonna do it? Nobody, that's who.”

Once the Garou adjusts to his new talents, for good or for ill, they become an innate part of him, and eventually even the most conflicted werewolf gets used to what he can do as though he'd always been able to do it. In much the same way that a rocket scientist can forget how to explain complex ideas in a way that laypeople can understand, or that an Olympic swimmer thinks nothing of venturing far from shore, knowing a Gift changes the way a werewolf thinks. It opens new avenues of thought, provides new options for solving problems, and can ultimately shape the course of the Garou's life. Even the weakest Gift can make a significant difference.

In some ways, low-level Gifts affect the way a werewolf approaches his everyday life more than the mighty Gifts of the elders do. They become the lens through which the Garou views everything from herself to her enemies to the Umbra. The Red Talon who learns the Gift: Eye of the Hunter never doubts her instincts. She knows the strongest and weakest member of every group she encounters, and even if she does not desire violence she knows the dynamic of the group. A leader cannot hide behind a strong-looking subordinate, and no matter how much the weakest member tries to hide their infirmity the Garou can single them out as the right one to threaten, cajole, or slaughter to prove her might. She may well forget that others don’t have the same insight into group dynamics that she does, and will become frustrated when her packmates pick on the wrong person.

Meanwhile, to the homid who learns the Gift: Master of Fire, arson is his hammer and eventually, everything starts to look like a nail. A nest of vampires needs cleaning out? Burn it down! Who cares that he might need to slip inside and ensure that none of them escape? He stops thinking twice before leaping in through a window to rescue a child from a burning building, or dragging that Black Spiral Dancer bodily into the campfire until she burns to ashes. One of the greatest fears of almost every species on Earth — including supernatural predators — becomes a mere inconvenience to the Garou who masters it.

Higher-level Gifts can provide specialized solutions to problems that make their wielders the go-to people when certain kinds of threats rear their ugly heads or some specific talent is needed. When the Kinfolk parent of a packmate is dragged to a Bane camp and possessed against his will, the Theurge who has mastered the Gift: Exorcism is the only one who can save him without having to kill him be­ fore he completes his transformation into a fomor. If she earns Renown doing it and word gets out, she may receive calls from other packs or even other septs asking for her help. Some Garou thrive on these kinds of requests, either because they can get something out of them or because they feel good about aiding fellow warriors of Gaia. Others just want to tend to their own packs' problems, and grow resentful of those who make demands on their time. Either way, certain Gifts can shine a spotlight (or paint a target) on those who learn them, and they need to deal with that one way or another.

Some higher-level Gifts are weapons in the grand arse­ nal arrayed against the Wyrm's hordes, and the Garou who learn them become certain kinds of weapons themselves. The Fenrir who learns the Gift: Redirect Pain gains a rep­ utation as a kamikaze fighter, throwing herself headlong into battle heedless of the threat, knowing that any suffering her enemies bring to her will come right back to them. Her pack can't deny she's effective, but they worry about her. She herself comes to revel in the amalgam of pain and retribution every combat brings, her greatest satisfaction the look on a foe's face when he first realizes his mistake. To her, seeing her own blood flow spells victory.

Potent Gifts can even shape habitual behavior and prompt the Garou to adopt new lifestyles. In many cases, the werewolf isn't likely to learn a Gift like Riot or The Living Wood if he doesn't already have a penchant for sticking it to the man or spending time in wooded areas. On the other hand, learning such a Gift often creates a much stronger leaning toward such activities or environments, conscious or not, to the point where thinking outside that box becomes very difficult. The Child of Gaia elder who lives in a forest caern so that he will always have trees to animate for protection may never leave his bawn at all after he has spent enough time with the Gift. Likewise, the

Bone Gnawer who started off wanting to become better at rousing the masses is likely to develop an urge to do so whenever the opportunity arises once the Gift becomes part of him, seeing oppression everywhere and feeling his hackles rise every time.

A werewolf may also learn a Gift that doesn't conform to his previous personality or behaviors. Gifts learned out of necessity or desperation, at someone else's insistence, or even by request from a spirit could end up fundamentally changing the Garou forever. The metis who endures pressure from his pack to become stronger and more effective on the battlefield, or who succumbs in a moment of despair to the desire to lash out at others and seeks a spirit's help, may come to learn Gifts that unleash his Rage and suffering in ways he never imagined were possible, such as Madness or Lash of Rage. When he does, he may need to unlock hidden reserves of fury or bitterness that until now he has never allowed himself to feel, and they cannot put such genies back into their bottles.

Some Gifts are so powerful that those who master them must learn to keep them in check until they are absolutely necessary, or risk abusing them and drawing the ire of both the Garou Nation and the spirit world. The homid who learns to Part the Veil and allow humans to see the true nature of the werewolf walks a dangerous line. If she gives in to the temptation too often, her disregard for the Litany will earn her profound consequences, so she must develop enough self-control and good judgment to know when and where to apply her power, and when to hold it back. Likewise, the Theurge who uses Malleable Spirit to reshape the Umbra's denizens at her merest whim is a prime target for other spirits who see her as a threat to the natural order, so she must keep her temper and refrain from rewriting every spirit who gets in her way or disagrees with her point of view. Many high-ranking Garou in good standing with the spirits and their septs have reputations for being cautious or highly disciplined for this reason.