As hungry mutts, the Bone Gnawers have survived for centuries using their canny ability to sniff out food and sneak about unseen. It’s possible that they were originally of jackal stock, although their legends say that they were the "runt" of the litter back in the old days: young, tough, and stringy. Today, they are all too used to the role of convenient scapegoats. Few Bone Gnawers have gained enough Renown to play in the greater political field of the Septs and Grand Moots.

Throughout history, Bone Gnawers have followed the dispossessed and the homeless. They hate slavery and oppression in general, but they’re often too busy surviving to care about subtleties of Garou politics. They are allied with all the dogs in any given city through a complex system of communication called the "Barking Chain". They also know the dark places in the city that are ignored, reviled, or just too dangerous for the uninitiated of the street. Because of this, the Bone Gnawers are well informed about what goes on in the streets of any metropolitan area. This is as much a survival tactic as it is a strategic activity: they need to know when it’s time to flee a sinking ship once things go wrong.

There are some Bone Gnawers who feel that the ship is sinking, and not just Boston, but all of Gaia. These Seekers speak a tale of a newly reborn Gaia deep in the Umbra, far away from the rotting carcass that is this world. It is attitudes like this that encourage most tribes to look down upon the Bone Gnawers as dirty, hungry, and without dedication to the battle with the Wyrm. They would argue that they are simply very practical and thus tend to ignore the more high-minded tribes, even making fun of them from time to time. Ignoring old Garou traditions in favor of practicality often gets the Gnawers in trouble, such as their disregard for the ban on inter-Garou sexual relations. Indeed Metis are received better by the Bone Gnawers than by any other tribe save the Black Spiral Dancers, a comparison not lost on their critics.

The Bone Gnawers of Boston have been led by Grandmomma Peters for as long as anyone can remember. She has taught her children to follow two rules: Survival and Belief. Grandmomma teaches that there is need to help those who are trod upon, and thus to fight the corruption of the Wyrm on a very basic level. She argues this will matter much more in the long run than the slaying of a group of Banes at the loss of one of the few remaining Garou. But there is always the tough choice to be made when remaining true to faith and loyal to your packmates may put yourself in risk of survival. It is this underlying approach to the Wyrm that is so distasteful, if not traitorous, to more traditional Garou. Many Bone Gnawers feel that the only time they must Combat the Wyrm is when their backs are to the wall, or when they know they will win.

While the Bone Gnawers are held as the lowest of the low of the Garou, they treat their own Kinfolk more as equals. This can be mystifying to some other tribes, for whom Kinfolk are lessers, usable primarily as breeding stock and for favors in the mortal world. Indeed the familial bonds between a Bone Gnawer and her extended family rival that of the intensely loyal Fianna.

Perhaps it is then fitting that young Garou are not lauded as new kings among men, as other tribes might. For instance in the Boston pack, they have a simple, private talk with Grandmomma Peters, whose combination of prayer and probing questions some have found life changing. Then they spend the next few hours helping at one of the soup kitchens or homeless shelters run by their brethren. There is a long held Bone Gnawer motto: "Everybody eats", and to make this true, everyone must help. It is an experience that is humbling and uplifting, and in a true Bone Gnawer way, more practical than a Rite of Passage.

The Bone Gnawers have been an active part of the Boston scene since the founding of the Caern, never mind that only the Glass Walkers really get the credit for it. They helped lay down the metaphorical Underground Railroad in the Civil War, and helped build the Underground Railroad that is now called simply the "T". Though other tribes might not like to admit it, they helped a lot of Kinfolk of every tribe in Massachusetts survive the Depression. After all, Everybody eats. The Bone Gnawers don’t get credit for much, and mostly they just don’t care.

Attitudes to the other tribes:

Black Furies: Wooo. Okay first off, don’t cross them. Second, don’t cross them. Third… you get the picture. Oh, and don’t make any "bad phase of the moon" jokes around them if you like your skin. Best to just stay out of their way, ‘cause if one of them is looking for one of us, it’s probably bad news.

Children of Gaia: Gentle people, they want to see the best in anyone and any situation. They haven’t spent enough time in the city to see what the world is really like these days. And it’s probably best, ‘cause they couldn’t take it. Generally good folks, and share many of our aims.

Fianna: It seems like many Fianna have three emotions: Super-depressed, Super-angry, or Super-Happydrunk. Just watch for which mood their in and you’ll be in like Flynn. They’re pretty cool and most of them aren’t too pretentious to enjoy hanging with us. And they throw a damn fine party, I must say.

Get of Fenris: Vicious stupid bastards. We may talk about the fascist Shadow Lords, but these guys put the Seig in Seig Heil.

Glasswalkers: They figure they’re the CEO and we’re the night janitor of this old city. They play a bit high and mighty on us in public, but are not too bad in private. Just always remember that they’re looking for the bottom line.

Red Talons: Viciouser stupider bastards. We wouldn’t mind seeing more Lupus around, sure, but killing all the humans ain’t gonna happen, and trying ain’t gonna solve anything.

Shadow Lords: Don’t like em, they don’t like us. Don’t trust them, they don’t trust us. If they ever even give you the time of day, look for the trap. They’d love to bury our whole tribe or send us to a reeducation camp. Don’t know which pisses me off more.

Silent Striders: If they ever stay put long enough to get to know them, they’d probably be cool. They’re too focused on their missions to have time to harass us for being Gnawers. Just who are they running messages for, really? Did I mention to be real careful if you do the old dance of the street with one?

Silver Fang: They consider themselves the noble lords of the castle, but forget that castles went out of style ages ago. They tell us how low we are, we give them a little bow, and everyone’s happy. Since they hate the Shadow Lords, and we hate the Shadow Lords, we’re practically buddies.

Stargazers: So how much of that mystic bullshit actually sticks anyway? Some ‘Gazers are actually pretty cool, and some are just way out there. Pretty much none of them really know how the world works, though.

Uktena: Spooky mofos, those Uktena. They know weird shit about everything but the cities it seems. And some of them will pay good for the names of city spirits they can try to figure out. You gotta respect a people that got kicked around almost as much as us who are still in there hangin on and learning more every day.

Wendigo: Look, get over it. We’re sorry the Eurotrash kicked you off your land… no really! We’re used to getting kicked too. That doesn’t mean you got to tear every paleface a new one. These Wendigo got attitude for all the right reasons, but put it out in all the wrong ways. They just really need to learn to deal.