Episode 7: Skinwalkers

Skin Walkers –  That name for people such as myself who live in the Southern hemisphere, may not mean much. We may not have heard about these beings before and if we have, it is often because of TV shows such as on a popular ghost hunting series – where, it is treated at best, with mock-respect. Or as a subject of investigative journalism – such as in the case of a recent documentary called “Hunt for the Skin walkers” which chronicles the events on a Utah ranch, and was so well investigated by the journalist George Knapp . Also, which was very well documented and scientifically researched by Bigelow Aerospace, funded by Robert Bigelow for many years. Or, in many horror movies and TV shows over the years. To some of us, it is at best, a mere curiosity.

I have a really wonderful guest interview– A Navajo person, who grew up on the reservation, the native land.  This guest going to remain anonymous for their safety, and whose voice I’ve digitally altered, so it is not recognisable to any from that region who may listen to this. There are very good reasons for these precautions, which will become clearer as these episodes unfold.

This is such an interesting subject, with so much to cover, that this will be a two- part episode. I thought really hard about how best to structure these episodes, and have decided to intersperse the interview amongst other people’s experiences, where they fit in with what my guest is talking about. I have permission from all person’s whose experiences I share on these episodes. All of whom wished to remain anonymous. Some not because of cultural beliefs, but simply because of where they work, or fear of ridicule, and some due to cultural reasons. Having said that, let’s begin with a recent experience of only 5 months past.

Experience in SW Colorado

I recently had an experience that I’m… I’m just not sure about. I tried explaining it to my sister and I can’t even put into words everything that happened, how I felt and everything. I feel I can share this here anonymously. I don’t want people to think I’m crazy – I mean I feel crazy when I discuss it – but… I have to tell someone who might understand…

So recently I went on a bit of a road trip and visited a bunch of places in the southwest, Utah and Colorado and Arizona and southern CA. I stopped at a park in Colorado that I hadn’t initially planned on going to but had never been to, a place well known for its Native American history (various different tribal affiliations over time) that was absolutely beautiful. Honestly it was amazing and humbling, to see the history of the people here – it made me realize that there was so much more about American history than the rather Eurocentric view of colonialism I was taught.

Anyway it was amazing. Given that this was November and very off-season half the park was not accessible and attendance was minimal – there were other people but overall it was very quiet. I had been viewing some building ruins atop the mesa, one huge multi-room building and not that far away another large building with a very large kiva in the middle, and on the southern side of building #2 was a solstice carving on the wall. I was walking around the smaller solstice building as there was a couple walking around the large building and I enjoyed the quietness of being alone, and when I went to the large building they went to the solstice building, and then they left and I was going back to the solstice building to get some more pics of the solstice marker. I was now alone.

It’s hard to describe exactly what I felt and how everything went down but I’ll try. It was a pretty nice day, temp in the upper 50s (I’m from the Midwest and that’s still shorts weather to me), some light small clouds but not many, pleasant breeze, and a few birds chirping away and more than a few chipmunks all over. As I walked around the solstice building everything became just… still… like, the wind stopped, the animals went silent and disappeared, it was just weird. There was a large darkish cloud that came kinda out of nowhere and just hung there, it was a weird heaviness all over. And there was this smell of like, what I thought, just a dead animal. Like that sickly sweet smell of rotting meat, I assumed that there was like a dead dear or rabbit or something nearby that the wind had been blowing the smell away but the wind was gone and everything was just… still and heavy. As I reached the solstice marker wall I noticed that on top of the wall (mind you the walls are only 2’ high or so) there was a piece of pottery.

I swear that this pottery hadn’t been there before, and it wasn’t there in any of my first set of pictures looking back. It was a large broken piece, but now that I think back it was really clean, the blacks and whites very clear. I went and picked it up to get a closer look and it really was beautiful, a kind of stair pattern and then an angled set of lines, it was really pretty. But it felt… weird. Oddly heavy for its size. And I wanted to keep it, I wanted to take it and just kept staring at it for what felt like… god it’s so hard to describe how I felt but time stood still and all I wanted was this pottery – even now thinking about it I still get this weird like, longing feeling for it… and as I held it everything was just silent and heavy and that smell was just so strong, but suddenly, there was this huge raven out of nowhere.

Legit on the wall like 5 feet from me was the largest bird I have ever seen in the wild – this huge raven just cawed and flapped its wings and I kind of snapped back to reality. Honestly this raven was bigger than a friggin condor – it’s body was easily 3’ tall and its wingspan just massive. I put the pottery piece down on the wall, back where I picked it up from and just looked at this bird and the bird just looked back at me and I turned and walked away. Just like that the dark clouds blew away and the wind returned and there were other birds chirping and the smell was gone – actually the smell all but vanished when the giant raven appeared. I got like 10’ away from where I had been standing, just around the corner of the solstice ruins, and I turned around to see the raven – they’ve always been beautifully intelligent birds to me – and it was gone. I didn’t hear it flap its wings to fly away and I didn’t see anything in the sky, it was just gone. So was the piece of pottery, no longer on the wall.

I went back to my car and headed back to the visitor’s centre, as besides being totally weirded out over what happened, it was getting late in the day and I had a fair bit of driving to do to get to my next stop down in Arizona. I had a good thirty-five-minute drive back to the park entrance to reflect on what had happened and how weird I felt – honestly I felt like I had downed a bunch of Benadryl I was so foggy until the raven showed up. Even now I just really can’t explain everything I felt.

When I got to the visitors centre I was the only person in the visitor’s centre proper, besides the employees, and one guy was leaving as I entered. In the gift shop I was getting a mug (I get a mug from each park I visit) and was talking to the park ranger and the cashier who was an older American Indian woman – she later told me her mother was southern Paiute and her father Navajo – about how awesome the park was, how I wished I had learned about more of these cultures in school, etc., when I told them about the piece of pottery. I also said something like “oh yeah up at the far view sites there’s a dead animal too, when the wind dies down you can smell it” and the park ranger and the cashier kind of quickly looked at each other and then back to me. The cashier asked if the smell came before the pottery piece and I said yeah, the wind stopped and the animals were all quiet and basically told them everything I said above (I didn’t tell them how much I wanted to take the pottery home, I didn’t want to sound crazy or admit to how much I wanted to steal an artefact from a national park – but I did tell them how heavy everything got, how silent and still and stuff) and they just looked at each other a few times and kept quiet, except when I told them how this huge-ass raven appeared the cashier let out a little gasp.

When I finished my story they had a few questions about the timing of things, how long everything lasted and in what order everything happened and to describe the pottery and stuff and all of a sudden the cashier asked “would you like some tea?”. I love tea and was like “actually that sounds wonderful, thank you!” And she went to get some hot tea – the ranger and I walked back towards the employee break room down the hall past the artifact restoration exhibit and she asked where I was from and what I knew about the area and I told her how truly minimal I had known about the various native cultures, even those closer to my Midwestern home.

When the cashier returned she handed me a cup of sage tea – and she asked if I was honest about what happened. I was really confused and said yeah, and she told me to drink. The tea tasted kind of like a no-salt vegetable stock, I wish I had some honey and lemon (but the lemon probably would have made it taste like chicken stock then haha), and they told me about what they think I had been near. Apparently they hear a few different stories concerning skin walker activity throughout the year but none where someone sees the raven, and that’s why they were telling me this. The cashier proceeded to tell me a bit about skin walkers and how sometimes they curse objects to lure unsuspecting people in. She also said that the fact that the raven appeared and removed whatever enchantments I felt was very important, that “someone greater than us” was watching out for me at that moment, because even though skin walkers can choose many different animal forms even they would never appear as a raven, due to the spiritual importance of these birds (she said something about they carry messages from beyond our reality in their “midnight wings”), and if the raven appeared to me they could share certain information with me that they never share with anyone. She told me that the sage would help cleanse me of any remnants of the Skin Walker’s tricks, and suggested I see a shaman. I had already finished the cup of tea and was getting a little freaked out but oddly felt a little more calm after hearing her speak, and thanked them and left. I tried not to run to my car but walked very quickly to my car and left.

That night and a night or two later I had some very vivid dreams but I can’t remember anything of them, which is weird – I usually remember my dreams when I wake up (at least long enough to write them down) but these dreams, even though they woke me up, I couldn’t remember.

I don’t really know what happened or if they were pulling my leg but once I got home and really started looking into things I kind of feel… I don’t know. I feel like I’m crazy, because I can’t rationalize what happened. Even when writing this I realize how insane this all sounds. And I still can’t even fully describe how I felt, how weird everything got, it’s just hard to put into words.

But for the people of the Navajo, native American culture a Skin Walker is a very, very real being. A type of harmful witch, who has the ability to turn into – or disguise themselves as an animal. Most often in the form or shape of coyotes, wolves, foxes, cougars, dogs, bears, and sometimes even ravens or owls – as in that previous experience.

In order to become a Skin Walker, he or she must be initiated by a secret society. The initiation requires that the initiate kill a close family member – a child or a sibling, most commonly. After this task has been completed, the individual then acquires supernatural powers, which gives them the ability to shape-shift into animals. They, then will wear the skins of the animals they transform into, hence, the name Skin Walker – However my guest later on in these episodes mentions a something, with regards to this, that she only recently learned.

Sometimes, they also wore animal skulls or antlers on top of their heads, which brought them more power. They choose what animal they wanted to turn into, depending on the abilities needed for a particular task, such as speed, strength, endurance, stealth, claws, and teeth, etc. They may transform again if trying to escape from pursuers. Because of this, the Navajo consider it taboo for its members to wear the pelt of any predatory animal. However, sheepskin, leather, and buckskin are acceptable.

Skinwalkers also have other powers including reading others’ minds, controlling their thoughts and behaviour, causing disease and illness, destroying property, and even death. People who have encountered Skinwalkers say there are a number of ways to know if a one is near. They make sounds around homes, such as knocking on windows, banging on walls, and scraping noises on the roof. On some occasions, they have been spied peering through windows. Often they appear in front of vehicles in hopes of causing a serious accident, and then there is also often a very foul smell associated with them.

Their abilities are said to be uncanny, they are said to run faster than a car,  and have the ability to jump high cliffs. They are extremely fast, agile, impossible to catch, and  when they have been seen, they have been described as not quite human and not fully animal. They are usually naked, but some have reported seeing the creature wearing tattered shirts or jeans.

The Skinwalker kills out of greed, anger, envy, spite, or revenge, or plain malice. It also robs graves for personal wealth and to collect much-needed ingredients for use in black magic. They are also able to take possession of the bodies of human victims if a person locks eyes with them. After taking control, the witch can make its victims do and say things that they wouldn’t otherwise. Such as in this next experience.

A note about this experience. I had actually interviewed this chap, who currently lives in Brazil. We spent over 40 minutes talking about his experience. Finished our conversation and got off line. I went to download the audio of our conversation, to discover that nothing had recorded! So after a few emails back and forth, we decided that perhaps it was just better if I were to read out his experience. So here it is.

Why I hate Tuscon

My mother had met some douchebag of a guy and I absolutely goddamn hated him. However, she liked him and there wasn’t much I could do. Eventually, my mother decides she wants to move in with him (spoilers: it didn’t work out) to Tucson, Arizona – where he lived – from Miami. I was 16(FEB, my B-day is in July) so I didn’t have much say. At this point in time, things were pretty bad. I hated the new school, hated the new home, hated everything. However, there was a silver lining. I made a friend, whom I will call Jazz. Now, Jazz wasn’t like normal girls. She wore an extremely unique attire, had this amazing accent, and just had this whole air about her that got your attention. Jazz was a big nature lover. She scared me half to death once when she brought a scorpion in her hand so I could see it. Freaked me out seeing that giant black thing, till she told me the rules of size with scorpions and venom.

Anyway, Jazz and I were close as close could get. Not lovers, mind you, I was still with my ex back then (no, I did not tell her this story for reasons I’ll share later on in other stories). We saw each other as family. I often hung out with her, but never really met her parents. So, one day Jazz is at my house and we’re watching Naruto (this was back when it was still fire). Suddenly we hear this AWFUL scream from afar. My room and window are basically positioned next to the main door, so the window looks outside. Outside we lived in a house in one of those streets that ended in that huge circle of houses. As we look out, there is a house directly in front. We see a girl yelling and slamming herself into a parked cars window. We didn’t know what it was, but it was freaky because she was hysterical. Suddenly a man comes out, yells something to her, and she just darts off TOWARD my house. She runs over and just slams into the front door so hard Jazz and I looked at each other like “Fuck, she got in.” she didn’t, of course. We closed my window, backed away and went back to Naruto.

Flash forward a week and cops show up at our door. My mom answers, then calls me over. The cop asks if I saw anything because of my window placement on that same day the girl freaked and I told him everything I just said here. When my mom asks what it was about, the cop told us the girl was our neighbour’s daughter. They fought over her boyfriend, the dad locked her phone in the car, and you know the rest. The thing is, she never went home. The dad thought she ran to her boyfriends, but eventually, he called to ask and he mentioned he never saw her. So she’s a missing person, great, as if Tucson wasn’t bad enough already.

Flash forward again, this time a month. Tucson was hot, I mean horribly, horribly, horribly hot. And where I lived the bus to my school didn’t come so I had to walk. It was about 30 minutes walk every day (my mother was an alcoholic so forget rides that early) and the same back. I liked the walks though, because half-way I would always meet Jazz and we would go to and from together. So, one day I am walking to school, all great, when I get a weird chill down my back. It felt almost like a drop of cold water fell on me. I thought it was about to rain, so I look up. Nope, clear skies. As I’m looking up, I then get this sensation I can’t really describe right. It felt like I was a kid sneaking somewhere I shouldn’t be and I had just been caught, and it was that moment where you and the person who caught you just “lock eyes” and you know you’re history. I look down real slow and from my left peripheral something was there.

The street is barren, right side is pure desert and left is all cul-de-sac houses. As I slowly look over my eyes are adjusting, basically, there is a house, and behind it an air conditioner (I think it was one, at least) the big thing with a fan that’s on a concrete bed. The house was casting a shadow over this air conditioner and my eyes were trying to see it properly (I used glasses back then which didn’t help). As I begin to focus my body shook like I was being electrocuted, I actually felt my mouth drool and my eyes tear up. I saw a head, it was just a head, but it was to the left of the generator, facing the back of the house, nearly at the top. I knew it wasn’t floating, more like someone was “peeking” out from behind the gen. The shadow was over its face and its hair just dropped like it was soaking wet and really dirty. I didn’t move. I felt like, at that moment, we made eye contact. It was like looking at a bear. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t know if it would chase me or what. I just stared at it, shaking.

Suddenly a hand comes over my shoulder and I hear a soft “hi”. It was Jazz. It snapped me out of whatever that was, I looked over to her and she had this look of shock and horror on her face like she saw a dead body. I thought she saw it too, so I asked “Did you see it? Jazz, did you see it!?!?!” Jazz just nodded slowly and replied, “see what?” I pointed at the air conditioner and there was nothing. I mean nothing. The f*cking shadow wasn’t even cast on the same goddamn side. I told Jazz what happened and she told me she didn’t see anything. When I asked why she looked like that, she replied it was because from three blocks off she was calling my name and I was standing there, motionless, staring into nothing. When Jazz finally snapped me out of the trance she said my eyes were bloodshot, like I had hadn’t been blinking for a while, I was pale and soaking with sweat. I told her everything and we didn’t go to school, she grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me to her house.

This was the FIRST time I had ever been in her house (which sucks it had to be this way). Her house was amazing, it had this crazy good smell and there were these awesomely decorated ceramics all around and cool pictures of, what I later learned, were Navajo. Jazz took me into the living room, told me to sit on the couch and wait. She then went into the house. I waited for about half an hour and could hear faint screaming in a language I know wasn’t English. Until, finally, a man walks in. He had long hair, braided, looked like he came out the movies. Dude was incredible. He looked me over, I was actually still a bit pale and shaking. He then smiled, extended his hand, and told me “lets go eat”. So we go to the kitchen, I eat, tell him the story, and Jazz tells him about the girl from the car and the whole missing thing (cops spoke to her too since I told them she was with me). Here’s the thing, she got really riled up and said a really long word, which I will not repeat (even if I could). Her dad became FURIOUS. It was like a white guy saying the N word in the middle of a black history lecture. He was just beyond pissed and told her never to say that again and not to mention anything anymore. So she leaves and he stays with me. He doesn’t say a word while I eat, neither do I.

Fast forward, I’m in their house still, Dad said I would be sleeping over. He said “You’ll sleep over tonight” literally, I didn’t ask. I called my mom, she didn’t care, whatever. Won’t lie, it was really fun. Jazz showed me the awesome house, they had two malamutes that were HUGE and adorably fluffy and playful. We had an awesome time. Until it turned dark.

So me and Jazz are chilling in the backyard with the dogs and playing. Everything is great until suddenly, it starts to goddamn snow. This may sound weird, but it does snow in Tucson, apparently. This was my first time seeing snow so it was awesome. I looked up at the little snowflakes falling from above, but as I did I got that same feeling from before. That droplet of cool water down my back, that unwelcoming. Jazz’s backyard is like any other. Walled off by wood with some tall shrubbery covering the wooden walls. My back was to the house, but as I looked forward I saw it. This time the face was easier to see. It was just wet, wet and pale and dirty. I swear to you that I can’t remember the features. When I try, I get this weird image: like a dirty smiling porcelain mask with black holes where eyes should be. It was tall, really tall, and it just stood behind the shrubbery, still. I couldn’t hear anything, I couldn’t feel anything, I just saw it and the snowflakes falling between us. Then the Malamutes went insane. They howled like wolves and snarled, I couldn’t take my eyes off that face but in my peripheral, I could see the two just crouched and snarling.

It felt like I was submerged in deep water. That feeling of heaviness and that horrible fear when you look down into the deep black and just don’t know what could come up at any moment. I just stared at it. Until, suddenly, I felt something. It was sort of like a warning, like I knew whatever that was in the shrubs was about to run out. So I slowly backed away, trying to feel for that sliding door I knew was behind me. The weird thing is, as I backed away I could hear the dogs in front of me but I couldn’t see them. they never moved but weren’t in my line of sight anymore. As I was backing away I felt the urge to run, like time was running out. So I told myself to count to three.

I got to two. As I was about to turn around and run I feel a sharp pain on the left side of my cheek and blink. As I blink I’m suddenly being held by Jazz’s dad. You don’t understand. I blinked and Jazz’s dad was holding me, the house was in front of me, and behind me was the f*cking driveway. I look back and the dogs are there howling at something. As I’m about to look up at the street, the dad covers my eyes, talking in weird language again (probably cursing me out). He brings me in the house, Jazz is hysterically crying and screaming my name from her room. Her dad carries me in the house, shuts the door, then takes me up to Jazz’s room where she hugs me like I had just died or something. I don’t know what happens after, I just woke up in her bed, went downstairs, and they were both there. (it was Saturday, I stayed over Friday)

Her dad REFUSED to tell me what the hell that was or what he didn’t want me to see. It was only later that day Jazz told me I sleepwalked right out of the house and to the front yard where I just stood there. Jazz woke up because she felt like she was drowning and screamed because when she looked at the street she saw that same girl from before standing outside at the street starring at my dumbass stepping backward toward her like I was afraid of her dad who was in front of me. By that time, her dad was already outside grabbing me and hit me when he saw I was about to dart backwards. I told her that, to this day, I still don’t remember going to bed, I don’t remember what we did throughout the day. Apparently, we didn’t play in the backyard. She doesn’t have a back yard. She doesn’t have two dogs. Her dad had two Malamutes when he was a kid, they died a decade ago.

I spent a little more time with them, her dad gave me incense and these other weird twig things he told me to bury in front my window and burn the incense in my room before bed. I also got a nice bowl my mother shattered in one of her drunken fits. That whole thing never happened again. Spent a good 5 months in Tucson, Jazz and I became close. Eventually, I moved back to Miami. We just lost contact since then. Apparently, she moved to Alaska (according to a, my space friend in common). I still think of her though. On occasion, while I would be with friends walking home or just alone in the dark, I actually hear barking. It’s far off, so it could be a neighbour, but I swear I know that barking. It doesn’t really scare me either, I’m actually glad to hear it. I don’t feel very alone when I do.

I know this story was long but, as I said, it’s chronological. It all happens and continues to happen, even years later. Some of it feels connected, other stuff is just bad luck. I don’t like telling this one, it makes me feel like I bring something back from it. However, there is part of me that feels relieved by the thought of people knowing. I don’t feel so alone.

Years later I told this same story to a friend here in Brazil, he’s big on Las Vegas because being a pilot and told me he knew some Navajo back then. He said what I saw might be what’s called a “Skin Walker”. The reason he says this is because it’s believed that for them to possess you they need to “make eye contact” and it’s what I did the first time I saw it. Apparently, Jazz’s dad broke that bond before it took hold. I honestly don’t know, I hung with Jazz and her dad multiple times and one day he was very frank with me and just said: “some things we simply aren’t allowed to talk about with people outside our culture, it’s not safe for you or us.”

The Navajo call these witches “yee naaldlooshi”, which translates to “with it, he goes on all fours.”  My sincere apologies to any native peoples who may be listening, for the mispronunciation, of your language throughout this show.

For the Navajo people, witchcraft is just another aspect of their spirituality and one of the paths people can chose to walk. There are many other native American tribes such as the Pueblo, Apache, Hopi, Ute, Choctaw, and Ojibwa indians who also have their own versions of a Skin Walker, with different names. For example the Ojibwa call them ‘Bear Walkers’, while the Choctaw call them ‘Ishkitini’ – but whatever their name, each version includes a witch who chooses to walk a malevolent path.

This type of person however; is not limited to native American cultures. It is also found in many, many other cultures throughout the world –  For example: in Mexico, they are called Nagual. In Australia,  Kurdaitcha – if male, Illparinja – if female. In Hawaii, Kapua. In Russia Lehy, Wawkalak, Vokalak, or Bodark. Here in New Zealand we would call them Tipua. With that small bit of information, let’s listen to my guest.

The Interview Begins

Marianne: I know that this is a particularly sensitive subject and I’m really grateful that you’re taking the time to share your information with me and my listeners. Acknowledging that even though in your culture they are called skin walkers, that many native cultures throughout the world have similar. Similar people who do similar things, but they go by different names.

Guest: Oh yeah, absolutely! And it’s interesting because like the lore behind it, I’ve, I have seen in other places.And in terms of like my religious beliefs, I’m very much a traditional Navajo and believe in the traditional Navajo ways, which essentially… Like my interest in the Skin Walker topic did start from me being the traditional Navajo spiritualist and asking my Grandmother who was a Medicine Woman about… You know, I was very curious about it and she was the one who gave me, the… essentially the folk lore, well not folk lore, the lore behind the Skin Walker topic.

Can you briefly explain for listeners who may not know what a Skin Walker is, can you give a brief background if that’s ok?

Sure from what my Grandmother told me, my Grandmother – she was a Medicine Woman, who was a practitioner of healing within the Navajo community. So generally people who go to medicine men or women are seeking services in terms of like, you know, blessings and helping with their general lives. And what a Skin Walker is, and from my understanding, is a person that didn’t chose to follow the blessing way, in terms of the Navajo spirituality. They decided to branch off from that and go towards, you know, witchcraft. And kind of essentially going the evil path, and these two pathways were the blessing way, and a way that’s not so great.

Which is interesting, because from what my Grandmother told me is that, that’s never been… It wasn’t always this way. I kind of mentioned that in one of my stories, that Skin Walkers were originally just part of, um, they were part of the group. They were part of the…essentially they were seen as people that had amazing gifts. And they… she talked about like when the colonization of the United States was happening, Skin Walkers would relay messages from between warring camps. And they had these amazing gifts in which they were able to camouflage themselves as animals and you know, move about freely and. Relay messages to warring camps of where the enemy was and like… It was seen and held in high regard.

But my Grand Mother mentioned that when colonization happened, that people started breaking up the land. People were… people were given things – you know, not necessarily… It wasn’t given away equally. And so, a lot of people got jealous. A lot of people were looking around and seeing oh well… you know, those people knew the right people and so they got to have stuff – more stuff than we do… And so instead of bettering themselves and trying to improve themselves they used their… They turned those gifts into essentially trying to get back at people.

Right, Right.  And is it true that…? I read somewhere that, and I don’t know if it is true or not, but that in order to become a Skin Walker these days, that you have to murder a member of your own family. I have heard of instances where that is true. I, it… I guess to be a Skin Walker you have to have a level… a level of … You have to kind of give up your morality.

Right. And so, I think the best way for them to prove themselves [worthy of becoming a Skin Walker] is like, I love this person. I want the loved one, but I… whatever my goal is, is much more important, than the love I have for this person. And so I am going to give up this person, in order to gain that power or, whatever their goal is or get that power to accomplish whatever they want.  

There is something else that I’ve heard recently that was really interesting. I was talking to a family member and she mentioned that she was talking to her friend, and in terms of like the lore, and the conversations of Skin Walkers is very taboo. But, you do have some Elders that do talk about it. And I guess one of the Elders shared with her, that you know Skin Walkers, the term Skin Walkers comes from, they wear skins. So they do wear, some of them do wear animal pelts.  But what I have heard is that the more experienced, the more – you know, the more advanced levels of Skin Walker do not need to wear skins. And they can just transform, into their other form on the spot.

That’s interesting. That’s very interesting.

So that is where we will end part 1 of our Skinwalkers episode. Our conversation continues next week, along with my guest sharing some of their own personal experiences with Skinwalkers. So be sure and join us for the second part. And so you don’t miss it, be sure and subscribe to the Walking the Shadowlands podcast on Itunes, Spotify, and all podcasting platforms.

All of the music today, apart from the guitar bumper chords, was from a beautiful piece of music that has a touching backstory. The gentleman who wrote the song called ‘Apache Moon’ had a wolf that he loved and had raised from a cub. His beloved animal died after many years together and he wrote the tune as a memorial for his friend. It is his pet’s howling that can be heard in the bumper music.

So that was Apache Moon by Watchwolf. Copyright 2008, licensed under Creative Commons. For more information visit the podcast website. www.walkingtheshadowlands.com.

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