Boy, do I feel bad putting this story off for so long. I thank those of you who have stuck around for this long. I finally got rid of my writers block and with one year left of school I've found a little more free time. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

A week went by, then two, and then a total of eighteen days passed since the last murder in the north. As fast as the "Killer Windigo" appeared, he vanished off the face of the earth. Many authorities and volunteers had continued to search the woods for the murderer, but over time the search parties grew smaller and smaller. The residences of the north became more tense and anxious from the lack of answers. Family members of the victims wanted someone to pay for the crimes, but there were no other suspects or any leads. The only one to see and live the Windigo's first attack was poor Bernard Mackenzie. Rumour had it that he was charged for the first murder and had been placed in the town jail house until he was transferred to a maximum security prison. Others said he had locked himself up in his room and was slowly losing his mind from the traumatic experience. Another rumour circulated that some government officials picked him up and took him to be questioned at a secret location in the Arctic Circle.

No one really knew the truth anymore, only fear and panic. The town's people of Twin Lake were still feeling the stress, especially the children. They were too afraid to go outside, much less leave their homes to go to school and even when they got there it was just as hard for them to leave. A week ago the town had done well to carry on their everyday lives until a report came about a distinct pattern emerging from the killer's movements. Each kill appeared to move south from where the first victim was found, they would occur on or near hunting grounds and each victim was a resident from the town closest to the crime scene. Four other towns appeared to be the next possible targets on the murderer's spree and Twin Lake was one of them. Unless the "Killer Windigo" was finally caught, it would take a long time for the town to feel they were safe again.

Morgan slammed on the piano keys, venting out his frustration as he played the loud, dark tones from The Ballad of Sweeny Todd. The piano seemed to be the only thing that briefly calmed him. It was not just about the cancellation of the hunting trip, it had to do with the whole season. He knew the north had short summers and the hot weather would not last much longer. Morgan felt like a caged animal, he wanted to get out; he wanted to roam free in the heat and the sun without having to worry about being seen. The instinct he had tried to control for such a long time was now almost becoming almost too much to bare. Harsh chords rang out from the music room as the song continued, he hissed as his fingers began to throb but it only fuelled his aggravation.

"MORGAN!" shouted a voice.

The alien jumped and stopped his playing, startled and irritated from the interruption. He whirled around and clicked his tusks irritable as he saw Nicki standing at the door, giving him a stern look.

"Jeeze, Morgan, you play that any harder and your fingers will be too sore to hold Uncle Danny's gun."

Morgan frowned and slumped his shoulders, his older brother still talked like he would leave for the hunting trip at any day and he was getting fed up with it.

"We're going to get groceries for the barbeque. Do you need anything?"

Morgan scowled, "No I don't. Have fun on your adventure into town, don't mind me. I'll be here, alone, with my piano."

The alien turned away from his brother and grumbled even more. Nicki sighed.

"Red, I don't like it either but you have waited seventeen years to go on the trip, so what's a couple more weeks? I had to wait a month and a half until I could go. Remember the forest fires?"

Morgan groaned and nodded. Several years ago the north experienced a very dry summer and a large majority of the boreal forest was wracked with fires. Luckily the concentration of the fires was father west and only one northern town had to be temporarily evacuated. In fact, it was so dry that for the first time in forty years the whole province was not allowed to set off fireworks for national celebrations.

"We'll be back in an hour or so, call if you need anything," said Nicki as he turned and left.

While he felt bad about Morgan's depression, he too was beginning to lose patience with his behaviour. He had been trying to find ways to keep his younger brother active with the occasional rock climbing, fishing and canoe trip on the property. But he could see the longing in his brother's eyes, he wanted to go beyond the property and farther into the wilderness. As Nicki headed out the door he thought of something that might help and he told his family he would make a quick stop somewhere while they went shopping. The young man hoped his idea would work.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Hunter was restless in his sleep. The blanket that once covered his body was now twisted around his legs, his eyes rolled back into his twitching lids and his breathing intensified as the dream continued. Fuzzy shadows whipped by his body, like fingers grasping and waving in a crazed rage. Was he running? Was he chasing something…or was he the one being chased? Colours began to appear in the greyness – orange, red, yellow and white – it was very hot. A towering wall of fire began to form right in front of him. He tried to get away from the inferno, but his legs felt as heavy as lead and he could barely move. The Hunter began to see something burning in it. No, not something…someone! There was a definite figure in the fire, but a figure of what? It was as black as a shadow and a menacing growl seemed to come from it and echo all around the blaze. Suddenly the figure burst into a giant, black mass that consumed the fire and just as the Hunter felt it was about to engulf him, he woke with a startled bark. He blinked and rubbed his eyes as he regained his senses, swallowing dryly he untangled his legs from the blanket and sat up, panting. That was the fourth time he had that dream, each time the images became more detailed and the feelings of confusion and nervousness increased – something he had not felt in a long time. What did it all mean? Why was he suddenly having these nightmares? The Hunter grunted as he threw his legs over the side of his mattress and he ran a hand through his sweat covered locks. No, he thought, they are no longer dreams, they are visions. He was sure of it, but what were they trying to tell him? Shadows, fire, a figure burning, growling – it sounded more like a sign from the Underworld than anything else. The Hunter ruffled his dread locks and gave a sigh, maybe another meditation session was needed to bring back the intense visions and hopefully find their meaning. The Hunter stood up and went to put on a fresh piece of clothing, passing by his three, freshly polished ooman skulls.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The barbeque was going quite well, considering the Cameron family had one every five years or so. Beef patties and moose steak were sizzling loudly on the grill and their new picnic table was set up nicely with plates, drinks, bowls of chips and platters of vegetables and fruit. A continuous breeze kept the mosquitoes away, but it did not stop the occasional wasp from dive-bombing the food, or the spruce beetles from lazily flying down from the trees. Jack closed the lid of the barbeque and looked over the backyard, taking a swig of his beer. The guest list was larger than usual; Allison, her husband and Martin were there. The couple watched Martin and Garret splash around in the large paddling pool with Daisy, keeping them cool in the hot afternoon. Santana was there as well, snacking on a plate of vegetables while talking with Lindsay. Daniel was inside with Annie, making his famous lemon wedge fries and barbeque sauce for the moose steaks. Lastly, the Elder of the town was attending. He sat comfortably on the back porch in the shade of the house while he listened to Morgan play another new song from his guitar. The Elder was a last minute invite, Nicki's idea.

Jack took another gulp of beer and checked the cooking meat. It always amazed him how well Morgan's secret had been kept, considering how many close calls they had, he wondered if it could be kept much longer. Like any father, he worried about his children's future, but none was more uncertain than Morgan's. What was he going to do when Morgan reached adulthood? What will his life be like? Eventually his brothers and sisters will move on to their own lives, but that was something Morgan could never do on Earth. This world was not ready to learn of alien existence and certainly will not be ready in Morgan's lifetime...however old his species lived. Problems with Morgan were only just beginning, first with the cancellation of the hunting trip, then what will happen next? Jack's thoughts were interrupted when he saw his brother come out with a cooking brush and a bowl of his thick sauce. He stepped aside to let his brother work magic on the steaks.

Morgan strummed out the last chord on his guitar and stopped, then shrugged.

"And that's all I have so far," he said.

The Elder smiled.

"Very well done Tipiskâwatâhk, I can't wait to hear the rest."

Elder Bill Gladue was the last of the people in town who knew about Morgan's existence. He and the Cormacs were long time friends and one they could depend on to keep Morgan a secret. Elder Gladue remembered the day he saw little Morgan, sleeping in his crib with a yellow and green fleece blanket wrapped snugly around him. From the moment he saw him, he knew there was something very special about him and agreed to support the family during the times when Morgan's identity became compromised. He gave the Cree name to Morgan on the day he met him which roughly translated to "Night Star" in reference to how he came to this world. As the little alien grew up the Elder became most intrigued by him. Mostly because he reminded him of his own grandson; full of life and possessing many gifts. However, when Morgan was no more than three years of age, he lost his grandson in a drinking and driving accident where he was killed instantly at age twenty. The Elder tapped Morgan's calf with his cane.

"You've bulked up since the last time I've visited. What have you been doing?"

Morgan tilted his head, "Um, nothing much really. Just helping out with the deck, little bit of rock climbing and some sword practise."

"Ah, that's it, your practise. I can tell, you carry yourself a little more gracefully. Like a dancer."

The alien gave an odd look, "A dancer?"

"Of course, you have been training your body to use different forms, stances, poses and fluid movements, right?"

"I suppose I have."

"There, you see," Elder Gladue chuckled, "I'll bet you would make a fine Fancy Dancer."

Morgan sat back, "That's all I've been hearing, 'would have' this and 'could have' that. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is? Wanting to do so much more, wanting to see things and be a part of society?

The Elder nodded, "Yes Morgan, I do. In fact, many of us still do. It has been a constant struggle for my people to be a part of society. True there have been some improvements, but it took over four hundred years to get to this point in our history. Of course it's not perfect, but it's a start."

Morgan's face felt hot, it was a little ignorant of him to complain like that in front of the First Nations Elder. But it did comfort him to hear he was not alone with his feelings.

"Speaking personally," continued the Elder, "I understand your feelings of being trapped and isolated. It was like that at the residential school. We were taught what to think, what to learn and believe. But even still, after learning the ways of the white people it did not matter, we were still separated from society because we were Indians."

"So how did you deal with it?"

The old man gave a warm smile, "Family Tipiskâwatâhk. It was my family that kept reminding me who I was and where I came from. Because they kept so strongly to their cultural roots, I was able to appreciate the person I was and the proud background I come from. Although, physically you are very different from us humans and your kind may have different ways of learning and teaching, you were still fortunate enough to be with the family you have now. It is not everyday a lost child is found by such an open minded family."

"But what if this isn't supposed to be who I am? What if I was meant to be someone else?"

"It is entirely possible, but I wouldn't have an answer for that. I do believe though you are here for a purpose, there was a reason your...spaceship crashed and you were found by this family. And always remember, Tipiskâwatâhk, you were the one who has shaped who you are. You chose an interest in music and you strived to perfect it. You chose to continue to spend time with your siblings, rather than distancing yourself from them. And even though you are limited to this property, you have chosen to make the most of what this land has to offer, instead of shutting yourself away. Even those alternative choices could have affected who you are and your perception of the world."

Elder Gladue leaned forward on his cane, "You have been blessed with many gifts and you do have to potential to gain more. Finding those true gifts and learning to use them, either to benefit yourself or others, will help you on the path to finding your purpose in life."

Morgan sat back in thought, absorbing the Elder's words. It seemed odd to him that he would have a purpose here; he often viewed his arrival as a very unlucky accident. But, was everything after that so unlucky? The alien was snapped out of his thoughts when he felt a cane tap his calf.

"Enough talking for now Tipiskâwatâhk, the food is ready and I want first pickin's at your uncle's steak."

The Elder got up with a groan and stepped down from the porch. Morgan hung back for a bit and looked at his family, then the forest, then the house. 'No,' he thought, 'not unlucky. It just...happened.' The alien set his guitar aside and took his seat at the table. After the Elder blessed the meal, Morgan settled in comfortably with his family.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Hunter spent days in meditation in the hope that some kind of answer would explain his visions. He refused to eat or drink and if anyone took a step into the room, he would give a threatening growl to drive them away. At one time he thought he had something, for a split second the image of the figure in the fire became clear. It was certainly a young blood but he appeared malformed, almost mutinous. Half his face was ooman and the other half was Yautja. His eyes were blazing with rage and hatred and they seemed to burn right through the Hunter. Then the figure lunged at him and consumed his vision with blackness and his hearing became full of animalistic roars. Since then he had been trying to get the vision to come back but all he saw were shadows and greyness.

Suddenly he felt a presence enter the room and without turning he made a low growl. But the presence only moved closer to him and he became very irritated.

"If you value your neck, leave before I break it!" the Hunter snarled.

"I would like to see you try," answered the presence in a loud, powerful tone.

The Hunter's eyes widened and he whirled around to see the female Elder standing right behind him. The male struggled to get into a submissive position but because he had been sitting cross legged for so long, his muscles were numb and unresponsive. He looked like a clumsy unblood as he tried to untie his legs, but he finally got to one knee and lowered his head.

This female Elder was one of the tallest he had ever served under, towering close to ten feet. It was not the brightly polished, silver battle armour she wore that displayed her importance, it was not the aged look on her elegant, creamy brown face, nor the detailed orange and red watery markings that streaked horizontally over her crest or the many, deep jagged battle scars that lined her thighs, abdomen and shoulders; the strings of beads and gold rings in her long, ebony dread locks did not show her significance and neither did her crimson cloak that bore her clan's symbol. The Elder's status and authority was shown by the way she presented herself; her head carried high, her body strong and muscular and her vibrant, maize coloured eyes that looked as if they had seen many long and glorious battles. Those eyes demanded the up most respect and if it was not properly given, a swift and brutal punishment would follow.

"Forgive me Elder, I did not know it was you."

"I could have you gutted for your insolence, but you are fortunate that I am in a curious mood."

Even though the Hunter's legs and back was throbbing painfully, he did not move from his spot.

"To what do I owe this honour?"

"You have always been a solitary male, but even I have noticed your absence on this ship. The other warriors told me you have kept yourself in the mediation room for many days without food or water. So either you have suddenly decided to become a prophet or something occurred during your hunt that requires you to seek Paya's advice. Which is it?"

It would have been extremely unwise and downright stupid to lie to the seasoned, female Elder. The Hunter shook his head.

"Nothing happened on my hunt Elder. It was a good one, the prey was excellent and I have trophies worth honouring. But since the hunt my mind has been plagued with visions."

"What sort of visions?"

"Shadows, mostly of trees and fire, and I always see a distorted figure at the end of the vision. It made no sense to me, so I had hoped meditation would help."

"And has it?"

The Hunter shook his head again, not daring to look up, "No, Elder."

The Elder was not sure what to make of his story. This was not the first time one of her subordinates had experienced such visions and she never took them seriously enough to feel there was a problem. But this situation felt different somehow. She thought he would be the last male to have any sort of vision, but he was also the last male to be unfaithful or deceiving. For a long time the room was very quiet, the Hunter remained bowed and unmoving. The Elder nodded.

"If there is no more for you to say, then I will leave you to continue your vision quest."

She turned to leave, her cloak whirling around her sandaled feet.

"Elder, I humbly ask for a request."

She turned back around, already assuming what he was going to ask. Asking for help was very hard for the Hunter to do, however he felt there was no other way.

"I do not believe I am going to find answers through more mediation. I need to go back to the planet Earth and find the answers to Paya's message."

The Elder folded her large arms, "You do realise other warriors have hunting missions to complete. I cannot just disregard their requests because of one warrior's vision."

The Hunter hissed with irritation, he knew it was true.

"If you still wish to return to Earth, you may only do so only after the other warriors have earned their trophies and after we resupply. It will be many months until we can return to this system."

The submissive male was shaking, trying to contain his anger but what could he do? It was the best she could offer and most other Elders would not have even bothered to give one to a lower ranking member. He bowed lower to the female.

"I thank you Elder. I shall patiently wait for my return to Earth."

She nodded, "Now go, get something to eat. And take a bath."

It was meant to be funny, but the Hunter did not appear amused. She left the room and chuckled to herself, maybe she was crazy to grant him permission to go back but she was more curious than doubtful of the outcome. A loner such as him does not suddenly have a change of routine after one hunt. Whatever he was searching for, she wanted to be there to see what he would find.

Another chapter finished. Things are going to get even more interesting with the Hunter and Morgan in the future. It's always an awful feeling to leave you fans hanging for so long, but it just keeps me wanting to write more for you. Thank you all again for being so patient.