Yätu, the Protector

Nature sees what we do in the silence of the woods. She watches us ensnare the innocent children who cannot speak for themselves. She holds her tongue as blood spills upon the ground, crying out for vengeance. A death to sustain life – a lesser to support a greater is acceptable to her.
Yet, there are those who kill not for necessity, but for pleasure, and in this nature is not well pleased.
Those who exceed the law of the wild, taking more than what sustains life, must be brought to understand. That where the lesser may feed the greater, the greater must at times be used to teach the greater still.
This is the calling of Yätu.
The lesser are known to her. Each hair upon the fox, every feather upon the sparrow, beasts confident in her love, for as the lesser give life for a life, Yätu will take life for a life, if required.
Timnu of the first generation

Guardian of the Woods

Taught by the elders, those of the mountain villages know the story. A mighty beast running upon eight legs through the trees, silent as a whisper, twelve eyes on long stalks viewing all around her. Some say she is a dragon, but others claim her to be the mix of a great cat and serpent.
All agree that Yätu is both discerning, and fair. For she does not take life wantonly.
Many have been spared, seeking to capture fur or tusk. Though they set vile traps to maim and kill, Yätu gives warning. Trappers return to find their constructions mangled beyond repair, with no sign of man or beast. A chance to choose another path.
Not all accept this gracious offering.
Many who persist, killing for sport or gain, are not seen again. Some are found ravaged, killed in the same fashion the lesser would have suffered. Others are found after a time, rotting in silent screams, held fast in the very traps they set.

“Know that all was made for man, but one must not take more than is needed. For all men shall be held responsible for every drop of blood he has spilled.”

— Village Elder