Where We Do Not Hunt

Far, far to the north, at the very edge of the continent, where the shore gives way to ice and the waters of the Mackenzie River empty into the Arctic Ocean, there is a land where the great beasts of the past still reign supreme. Where the mastodon and the giant ground sloth and the glyptodon still bend or uproot entire trees in their endless search for food, while being stalked by dire wolves and smilodons. A land where Time itself stands still and Men are not welcome; the local fauna are unnaturally aggressive towards humans (but less so towards other sentient races like Sasquatches and Little Folk), violently and viciously attacking any humans who are foolish enough to enter their homeland. Both predator and prey have been known to pause their ancient dance of hunter and hunted to fight, side by side, against encroaching human hunters. At times it almost seems as if these violent rebuffs are guided by some greater intelligence, but understandably, very little research has been done in this direction. The nearby Natives call this region by a name which is both descriptive and prescriptive: "Where We Do Not Hunt".

### The Legend

*Long ago when the world was young, this land was covered in ice and snow. In those days there were no seasons, only Winter forever, and the Named Spirits walked the earth clothed in flesh alongside our ancestors, who would prey on them for their meat and their hides. But nothing can last forever, and with time Winter began to grow old. He could feel in his bones that Spring was coming, so he gathered his children the Named Spirits of the Great Beasts close to him. "I grow old," he told them, "and I will not be here much longer to protect you. Soon there will come a great warming, called Spring, and the snows and the ice will melt away into water, and the humans will multiply like Rabbit does. They will come in great numbers and kill you, much faster than you can bear children, and your tribes will die out."*

*This raised a great calamity among the Named Spirits. "What can we do to prevent this?" they cried, "We will kill this Spring and then he cannot depose you." Winter shook his head. "It is too late for that my children, what must be will be."*

*"But this must* not *be!" cried his children the Great Beasts. "You are our father, you must protect us. If we cannot save you, at least tell us how we can save ourselves, so that our progeny and yours should not perish from the world."*

*At this, Winter thought for a moment. Then he said "There is a place where the Great River empties itself into the cold northern sea, a place which is bordered by the shores of the Great Bear Lake and shielded from the winds by the Rocky Mountains: there you can be safe. I will use the last of my power to ensure that you always have enough to eat as long as you live there. If Men come to this land of yours, you must kill them, for surely if they kill you they will return with other hunters and kill more of you, until you are all wiped out."*

*Then, weeping and thanking their father for his protection, the spirits of the Great Beasts called out to their children across the world. Slowly they came, one male and one female of each kind, making the long journey from all four corners of the world, until at last they came to their safehold, the land Where We Do Not Hunt. And to this day we do not hunt there, for surely if we did, its inhabitants would kill us, as surely as Spring follows Winter.*