It's about reputation, it's about knowing who you do and don't have to resent. Werewolves? Wolves are prosocial and humans are too, so it was super common for single werewolves to show up and try to be part of communities, and when they went out hunting away from the village, people got spooked and then the inquisition started. I'm not saying it's all the catholic's fault, but it's really all the catholic's fault. Wolves are inclined to share food, too, but now, werewolves are very reasonably resistant to deal with most people.
Werebears? They're not rarer, not really, it's just they're not active. Like it's hard enough to manage that kind of duality of body and mind, 'cos half of your mind wants to sleep through the three coldest months and the human brain wants to shut down through the three hottest. They tend to be isolated, maybee tiny family unit, just me-and-mine kinda people. Again, they're not dangerous unless they're hungry AND you're intruding in a way they can't ignore.
No, if you want the real problem with zoanthropes up in the northwest states, in that blob of territory that touches mountains and forest and goes all the way up into Canada? It's not the wolves and the bears or the coyotes, god help ya - no, it's the overlapping turf of the two most stubborn kind of folk you're going to find.
Werebisons are stubborn, built like bricks, don't eat meat, and tend to have tempers that are so incredibly short that a mis-heard order at the McDonalds drive thru results in two best friends and brothers wrecking a truck. They're prosocial in huge groups, too. Rule of thumb: Entirely vegetarian night people are more dangerous than the ones who eat people because they're the ones who can exist without predator's senses. Twice as tough and half as patient.
But honestly, you get used to the bison. They want you to fuck off. They run compounds out in the praries or mountains or forests and come into town and load a truck up with potatoes and chip oil. The problem is where their territory overlaps in that band of land with the weremoose.
Remember how I said that werebison are stubborn and have short tempers? The weremoose tend to be stubborn and they tend to have long tempers. Weremoose feel like their territory is yes, the land they occupy, but also, anywhere in the immediate five meters around them. A weremoose who gets lost and finds herself in your front garden will wonder what the fuck you're doing interrupting her.
And the thing is, there's this practice, this rule, they have - they call it The Grudge. You show up at any of the Weremoose meets, any of the groupings they deal with, and someone, usually the oldest person there, has the duty to recite the grudge. Which is this long, single line of memorised resentment against everyone reaching back until the youngest person in that meeting was born. Because hey, that person might not know The Grudge properly, so it's to get everyone up to speed. That's the Short Grudge. The Long Grudge is a full accounting of the entire group's history told in terms of 'who we're mad at forever.' And it's recited like one of them bible bits about who begat who who begat who.
Standing in an abandoned steelworks in fuckin' Alberta, with my hands behind my back, listening as this jean jacketed wearing seven foot tall greybeard listed how back in 1998, lincoln from the werebison turf stole appledorf's totally cherry top-down and it being done with this sonorous seriousness.
Herbivores, man! Gimme a werebear any day, at least they can get OVER being mad at you.