The Tengu, a crow-demon from the Japanese mountains, perched on a branch overlooking the Waikato River. He waved his feather fan arrogantly. Mountain Mist Guile.
"Hey, mud-lizard!" he cawed at the dark water. "Come out and play tag!"
Below the surface, the Taniwha adjusted its position. It had taken the form of a rotting log drifting in the current. Shifting Kaitiaki. It didn't mind insults. It minded intruders.
The Tengu swooped low, intending to blast the water with a Mountain Gale and startle the beast.
The Log Snaps Back
As the wind hit the surface, the "log" exploded.
Whirlpool Maw.
The Taniwha opened its jaws, creating a sudden, violent vortex of suction in the air above the water. The aerodynamics of the Tengu's dive were ruined. The bird-spirit tumbled.
Before he could regain altitude, the Taniwha lunged. Jaws lined with shark teeth clamped onto the Tengu’s wing.
The Tengu shrieked, pecking at the lizard’s armored head, but the Taniwha knew the terrain. It rolled. The Death Roll dragged the air-spirit into the silt and darkness. Wet feathers cannot fly, and mountain pride holds no breath. The river claimed the crow, and the Taniwha returned to its log form, digesting in peace.