"The first of our kind were born from the whims of a foul warlock, Girtablilu. In a way, she is like the very desert we roam: cruel and punishing, yet within this strife lay life and bounty. Our ancestors tore her to shreds and fed her to our young. Savage, isn't it? To you, maybe. But to us, that was food for the night. The dunes we call home are rough, hence why we are your guides on this journey. But if next time we meet our tribe bears the red paint of the hunt, do not show us mercy. We won't to you, for the desert is harsh and we need food. Now rest, we must continue our travel at dawn." Instinct: to survive

• Guide others through the desert
• Paralyze with a stinger
• Toss a javelin