Night is typically not the best time to be wandering around aimlessly, as many legends and horror stories will tell you. There honestly seems to be no end to the amount of tales and rumors that surround the darkness, and all the morbid ways people "vanish." It has led to many people hiding in their homes when night falls, not daring to step out til the first light breaks. Though, that kind of depends who you are talking about. I bring that up because dryads tend to retreat into their homes when the sun goes down, but it isn't typically out of fear. It is mainly because the light we feed upon is gone, and thus we tend to get a bit more sluggish. We turn in for the night mainly because we know nothing else is going to get done out in the darkness, no one has the energy for that! I am sure some humans feel the same as well! But I am getting distracted! Anyways, what I was saying is that the night is prime spooky time for horrible things to happen and for nasty monsters to come out for the hunt. Indeed, there are some predators out there that hunt under the cover of darkness, and a lost fellow out in the woods may be acceptable prey. However, I am sure there are many cases where people "vanished" out in the night mainly because they startled a species that doesn't like being spooked. Or the lack of light had them literally running into a creature that took offense to this violation of personal space.
The harionago is a species that has gained a notorious reputation for what I just suggested. People make them out to be monstrous man-eating beasts, when most deaths are accidental encounters and literal run-ins. Their appearance doesn't help in dismissing these fantastical beliefs, as their fleshy folds and odd structure gives the impression of a human woman. However, the harionago is a member of the anemone family, just one that isn't found in the sea. It is one that has adapted to a life on dry land, with more hardy membranes that don't have to worry about drying out. The harionago has a colorful "sheathe" on its column-like body where its pale "head" can retract to hide from attackers or harsh weather. Though with what this species is armed with, there isn't a lot of creatures willing to tangle with it.
What makes the harionago so infamous is the writhing mass of tendrils that sits atop its "head." These long flexible appendages are capable of stretching and contracting to alter their length, and each tip is covered in venomous barbs. Each one seems to move as if it had a life of its own, wriggling in the air in search of prey. Despite its size, the harionago feeds mainly on birds and small animals, those that would get snared in its wicked "hair." These tendrils are sensitive to touch, and when they collide with something that registers as "food," they aim to stab and wrap. The venom they inject is a mild paralytic, weakening the muscles of prey. Though it isn't strong, that hardly matters when a dozen more barbed tendrils come whipping towards the victim. Prey is snared and tangled in these spiny tentacles, the many cuts and seeping venom slowly sapping the life from its food. When its victim ceases in its struggle, it is brought to the center of this nest of serpents, where the mouth resides. Indeed, though the top portion of the harionago looks somewhat like a human's head, it is all an illusion. Its mouth is on top, and the "eyes" people see are merely sensory pits. The maw ringed by tendrils is a small, toothless one, designed to swallow prey whole. Due to its size, that is why the harionago goes after smaller prey, as those are easier to gulp down. However, that doesn't mean they won't take larger prey if the opportunity arises. It will just mean that the hunt is more violent and the final moments are far more messier.
Encounters with the harionago mostly occur at night because the creature is more mobile at that time of day. During daylight hours, the anemone is in a sedentary state. They keep still to blend in to their environment, with some folk believing their colors and movements may try to mimic a flowering plant in the breeze. They aim to appear harmless, another piece of the scenery until prey wanders too close. At night, however, the creature becomes more mobile, using the cover of dark to slowly crawl to new hunting grounds. Though they lack legs, their pedal disc is adapted to pull itself across the ground. This lets them move when needed, though it is at a snail's pace. When traveling, the harionago becomes more apparent, and it also becomes more likely to blunder into one. They don't have eyes, thus they can't see what is approaching. Only their sensitive tendrils aid in understanding their surroundings, using them to feel around and know when they are about to slither into a tree. However, for a lost traveler in the woods, making contact with these barbed tentacles is the last thing you want to do. Because once they touch flesh, they go straight into attack mode.
As you have probably guessed by now, the deadly encounters people have with the harionago is mainly because of accidentally approaching them at night and a healthy dose of bad luck. These anemones are on the move in the dark, with their tendrils stretched out to search their surroundings. Someone with little light may not see these reaching tentacles until they make contact, and by that point it is too late. On top of that, the silhouette of a harionago is human-like, with the tendrils being mistaken as long flowing hair. Travelers at night may mistake them for a woman wandering the empty road alone, which can either make them drop their guard or even encourage them into approaching. There are many reasons why someone may go up to check on a lone female wanderer, be it out of concern or perhaps something more sleazy, but if said "woman" winds up being a harionago, the end result is the same. Prepare to be swallowed by a writhing wave of thorny tendrils, whose razor edges will pretty much flay you alive. Pray that blood loss ends you quickly, because once you are incapacitated, the harionago is going to start pulling you apart into smaller, easier-to-eat pieces. And its grisly deaths like that that create so many tales about this feared species.
Chlora Myron
Dryad Natural Historian
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"Harionago"
Time to get some critters in here!
