Gravemaw

Some of the First Beasts were magnificent. Some were terrible. Gravemaw was

simply hungry. It emerged from the deep soil with a mouth that seemed too

large for its body — a gaping, grinding maw that consumed earth, stone, root,

and anything foolish enough to stand on the ground above it. Whole forests

vanished into Gravemaw's path. Hills that had stood for millennia were

swallowed in a day. It did not eat to survive. Eating was the only thing

it understood — a hunger so vast that even Vita, who loved all

living things, recoiled from it. The great sinkholes and barren craters that

scar the oldest continents are Gravemaw's legacy. Not monuments. Not

memories. Just holes — empty places where something used to be, before the

hunger found it.