The Sands of Mata Nui
The mere mention of the Rarawhi stills the near-constant chatter of Le-Koro.
It is known as a dark spirit, a beast of ill omen, a nightmare given skeletal
semblance of life. Some believe it to be the Makuta itself.
Not quite insectile, not quite reptilian, the silent predator lurks within the highest
reaches of the forest canopy, absolutely unmoving until it is taken by the need to hunt.
Then the branches come alive as the Rarawhi rises from its place of rest.
Wingless, it glides through Lewa’s domain, whispering through the trees like
a knife’s edge through silk.
It strikes in a single heartbeat, moving almost too quickly to be seen. The victim is
clasped between its talons. The envenomed stinger is brought to bear. Death comes
swiftly and almost painlessly. Then predator and prey melt together into the forest’s shadows.
No one knows where the Rarawhi feeds. No one knows whether there is even more than one.
No one cares to find out.
Encounters between villagers and Rarawhi are exceedingly rare, and the predator has never
been seen to take a Tohunga as prey ... which is not to say that there are no tales of such
deadly incidents. Whenever a lone traveler vanishes in the forest, eyes once more are cast
upwards, searching the sun-dappled leaves high above for the fleeting shadow of the Rarawhi.
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