Mount Guatu

Surrounded by dense jungle the peak of Mount Guatu rises over the land, half covered by vegetation that seems to be reaching up towards it's open maw. From the top white smoke coils up into the sky joining the clouds above. During the cold months the rains cover the land most evenings but in the summer they choose the mornings, leaving behind a humid heat that sticks to the skin leaves most feeling drained and tired. The land is crisscrossed by packed dirt roads leading between the villages and farms. The bare feet of the Guali keep them flat as they head to and from work picking the sweet rose fruit and gandur beans.
The world outside of the villages seems like a paradise, the largest predators being the mongooses and feral cats that roamed in packs and would steal or beg for food in the villages they approached. To the west, the jungle stretches out unexplored for none of the Guali dare to leave the shadow of Mount Guatu for too long. To the east the sea meets the land, it's waves crashing softly against the shore. Most Guali avoid the sea for when the storms come without warning it's waves grow tall and the sky darkens as the wind whip across the beaches. Only the stong back of Mount Guatu can hold back their wrath.
During the day the jungle seems peaceful but at night it erupts into life, the tree frogs begin chirping and the fire beetles buzz as they awaken. The fire beetles, fist sized black beatles with strong sharp jaws, fly into air, their bright abdomens illuminating the night in a pattern reminiscent of the stars in the sky. The duller ones seek out the villages to steal a bit of the light from the fires of the bonfires at the heart of each village.