It was not long after the beginning of days that we were sent to save humans from wolves. The great puma spirit, Da-jo-ji, saw the trouble first. He was the guardian of the West Wind, placed there by Ga-oh, the Wind Keeper, for his fierceness. Few would dare his wrath, and so there were some he especially liked. Every now and then, he looked down upon the earth to see how his favorite humans fared. What he saw angered him.
The wolf changers had grown too mighty in their pride. To them had fallen the task of keeping the humans from growing too prideful. In doing so, the wolf changers had forgotten their own humility and place on the earth. Indeed, Grandfather Wolf had become shamed, shunned at the lodge by the other animals. How silly it was, the animal fathers all though: It was always the humans who made dumb mistakes. But now it was the wolf changers.
Although the council of animal fathers disliked what the wolf changers did, they could not agree about what to do about it. Now, Da-jo-ji wouldn't have cared except that the wolf changers were bullying his favorites. He did something about it. He whistled up a fierce wind, a bitter wind from the west. This wind blew the dust all around and wrapped it about the trees and rocks and the bones of dead animals. It mixed up the bones of human and cougars and made them one.
So the Pumonca were made, to make things right again.
Some say that's not how it happened, that he instead chose one of his favorite humans and told him how to take the shape of a cat. I've heard both versions.
The cat changers went to the high mountains of the west, where the worst of the wolf changers' folly took place. They sneaked around and watched, all quiet and silent. The wolves didn't even notice them. They thought they were the only tricky ones. After seeing the wolves scare the humans of the mountains, the Pumonca knew what they had to do.
One by one, they ambushed the wolves. They'd wait until one had left his pack for one reason or another and then pounce upon him. It took only one Pumonca; the others would watch to be sure the wolf pack did not come. Soon, many wolf changers were dead.
The rest of the wolf changers got angry. Instead of being shamed, their rage grew. This is always their undoing. The Pumonca do not have this kind of temper. They think through their problems.
It took many moons until the wolf changers and the cat changers finally met to talk peace. It seemed that some elders among the wolf changers had grown wise and promised to no longer bully the humans. The cat changers accepted their promise, but knew that it would not be kept. The cubs of the wolf changers were too wild, and their elders could not restrain them. So the cat changers simply watched for a while. When a wolf changer bullied a cat changer's people, the cat changer would revenge himself on the wolf. Soon, the wolf changers knew which humans to mess with and which ones to leave alone.
That is one story. There are others. Some say the Pumonca were made by the mountains, to protect them from fools. But they could not protect them from the white fools, who dug into the mountains seeking the yellow rocks, or the precious moon rocks hated by the wolf changers.
Others tell the story about the maiden who married the puma. Her offspring were cat changers, and could live among the humans or cats. It is her curiosity they carry, always wanting to know what life is like for others, turning over the sharp porcupines to look at their soft bellies beneath.
There are many stories. Each person will tell you a different one, and each story will be the truth. We are what we are. Do you question the wind? That is not Grandfather's way. "I am," says He. "You do not need to ask why."
TRIBAL BACKGROUND
Loners, wanderers, secretive hermits who watch the world around them and occasionally push things back into place, these are the traditional roles of the Pumonca werecat. A Pumonca is a loner among loners, whose travels take her across -- but rarely out of -- the North American continent.
Pumonca share a common tie to their birth-land. Some tales say that a cougar will die if she leaves her home. From the southern swamps to the western plains and the eastern forests and hills, these wandering cats can be comfortable anywhere. While most hail from Native American ancestry, a number of their kind mated with settlers and trappers in centuries past. Cajuns, mountain folk and hobos added to the Pumonca gene pool, and have left their mark on the tribe as a whole. Today, bikers, hippies, storm-chasers and drifters of many different races wander the United States and Canada, often sticking to the wilderness until some secret or crisis draws them out into the open. For a moment, anyway. They never stay out for long.
In all forms, the so-called Storm Walkers are sturdy, wiry and tough. Their feet or paws are callused from endless wandering, and they tend to wear little clothing and carry few belongings. Even the harshest weather seems to slide right past them, and their temperment tends to be laconic and even -- until someone defiles the land, or the beings on it. The Pumonca's rage is a frightening thing, as deep and solid as the werecat himself. What he can't change by strength, a Pumonca will alter by stealth these cats excel at earth-sense, and they know the land around them even if they've only just arrived. Their bond with the elements, as old as the breath of the Thunderbird, runs very deep.
Pumonca trace their ancestry to Mother Earth and Father Sky in all their many forms. Thunderbird, guardians of purity, swept the tribe into being and he flies beside them wherever they go. All Pumonca, even those without an official Jamak, revere the Thunderbird for his honor, wisdom and ferocity. His charge to defend the sacred land almost led to the tribe's extinction, but they follow that command gladly, even now.
In the oldest days, Pumonca were like bogeymen. Any village that grew too careless or prosperous felt the touch of the Storm Walker, the cat that came in the night to punish the foolish and the bad. Some cougars sat at Wendigo fires and fought beside the Croatan when the Wyrmcomers came. As the white men drove the pure folk from theirbhomes, Storm Walkers loomed out of the night and took revenge. Soon, they crossed claws with the Garou from across the sea, who began a new War of Rage against the native shapechangers. That war didn't end until both wolves and cats joined forces to battle the Storm Eater in the late 1800s. By that time, the Storm Walkers, never numerous to begin with, were whittled to a ragged few.
In the old days, the Pumonca relied more on their physical prowess than on cat magic. It wasn't enough faced with the mystic power of the white wolves, the Storm Walkers fell like rain. It was Old Stone Face, a Commanche shaman, who renewed old bargains with the element spirits and brought the Pumonca a measure of power for their fight. Invoking kinship and offering favors, Old Stone Face learned many secrets, then passed them to his siblings. These Gifts, combined with others taught by the Wendigo and Uktena, bolstered the Pumonca's power. Modern pumas still prefer to rely on their own abilities still, the Gifts don't hurt. Given the tribe's small numbers and solitary nature, any assistance is welcome.
After the war for the West, Old Stone Face called his remaining cousins together. He acknowledged the ruin the Wyrmcomers had brought to the land, but counseled peace and renewal. Old Stone Face had survived many years, and had learned that many whites were worthy folk. Old Stone Face suggested that Pumonca choose the bravest and most honorable Kinfolk they could find. Race was not to be an obstacle. Most pumas heeded Old Stone Face; modern Pumonca are a diverse lot, unified by their respect for the land and their self-reliant ways.
These days, a Pumonca travels alone. Any trail he shares will be a short one. He still maintains his bond to the land, and considers it a sacred task to hunt corruption. The elements are his kin. The road is his home. A Storm Walker still, he follows the wind.
TRIBAL HOME
All Pumonca call the North American continent home. In many ways, they're as much a part of the land as the dust from which they're said to have been born. While many of these wanderers come from Native American ancestry, members of the tribe have never chosen lovers exclusively. Many cougars dislike the Europeans for the changes they have brought to the land and its people, but a few have found their aggressive drive and imagination fascinating. Even the most adventurous Pumonca, however, prefer to remain in their ancestral territory. Any trip overseas is bound to be a short one.
CULTURE AND KINFOLK
&bsp; In the old days, Storm Walkers mated with the smartest women and bravest hunters. Their cat-Kin were cougars, solid and strong. In the past century, the tribe has embraced loners of all kinds, while the big cats have been hunted to near-extinction. The cougars now hide deep in the wilderness, and the people must live close to the land. Thunderbird is the guardian of purity, and his people must remain unspoiled.
This tribe's ways stress honor, strength and self-reliance. No whiners are accepted. All Pumonca and Kinfolk, regardless of their species, are hardy wanderers with an insatiable curiosity and sense of adventure. They speak little, but see everything.
ORGANIZATION
None whatsoever. After the fostering, both cougars walk in opposite directions for one full day. It took a major effort for Old Stone Face to unite the tribe, and it has never happened since.
SECRETS SOUGHT
Werecougars seek the secrets of the land, the lore of native peoples, and the corrupters who would poison both. They have no great love for magic, and consider those who follow it to be dangerous.
YAVA
A Pumonca is one with her land; if she leaves it for more than a full moon cycle, she will die.
&nsbp; The essence of the poisoned land (toxic waste, radiation, sewage) is deadly to a puma. Immerse him in its toxins and he will quickly perish.
All beasts fear the pumo. No horse will bear him, no dog will follow him. The great cats are his Kin and they befriend him, but no other animal can approach without terror.
APPEARANCE
The Pumonca is quintessentially American. Whatever her race or gender, she's spirited, laconic and tough. These londers travel light, and dress plainly. Many favor Native American jewelry, tattoos, weapons and clothing, although some prefer fringed leather, motorcycles, revolvers and Western wear. Their cat-forms tend to be either dusty yellow-brown or black, with white markings, short, powerful jaws, small eyes and thick, strong paws. Pumonca are bulkier than most werecats, but lack the mass of Khan or Simba or the raw ferocity of Balam. Their strength is steady, quiet and timeless.
QUOTE
If you didn't talk so much, you might hear a great deal more.
STEROTYPES
Bagheera: Good Folk. Talk too much, though.
Balam: Yep, we know their kind. They're our brothers and we fought the same war. They're still fightin', and I wish 'em luck.
Bubasti: Don't like 'em. Not at all.
Ceilican: Are they dead? Nothing is dead. Not forever.
Khan: Mean cats. Big and mean. If you meet one, walk away but don't ever turn your back.
Qualmi: Our riddling brothers have wiser medicine than we do, but they sit too long in one place and they do not taste the breeze.
Simba: Rotten bastards. Everything that's bad about a tiger is worse in a lion. Especially his breath.
Swara: I've never been close enough to one to form an opinion about 'em.
