In the heart of our ancient forest, where the whispers of the trees weave tales of old, there dwells a legend veiled in shadows and shrouded in mystery. They speak of a creature, born from the very essence of the woods themselves, a being of formidable might and silent grace. Known by many names among the villagers, it is whispered as the Arbormaw, for its jaws are said to gnash like the roots of mighty oaks that rend the ground beneath. Others speak of the Grovebeast, a moniker echoing its dominion over the labyrinthine depths of the woodland groves. Yet, most fearfully, it is called the Timberhide, for its form is said to blend seamlessly with the ancient bark and gnarled roots that birthed it into existence. This elusive guardian of the forest is both revered and feared, its presence a reminder of the wild magic that pulses within the heart of the woods. Legends tell of those who have glimpsed its form, only to be forever changed by the encounter, left with tales to be passed down through generations, weaving the myth of the Arbormaw deeper into the fabric of our local lore.