Hunters of the North — The Wendigo’s Hunger

The wind howls through the pines of the Great White North, carrying the scent of frost and the spirit of the Piel de Cuero—the Leather Skin. As our boys in red, led by the lightning pace of Alphonso Davies, storm the pitch, this ancient phantom of the woods lends them its tireless hunger. When the frost bites and the world doubts us, we don't just play; we hunt. The roar of the maple is the roar of the wild, reclaiming the pitch as our ancestral ground.