Lumipines are a cunning, pack-hunting species of Trench Umbra that prowl the lightless depths of Crius’s oceans. Their sleek, streamlined bodies end in a muscular, eel-like tail, propelling them through the water with remarkable speed and agility. Two powerful front limbs and twin sets of side flippers give them unmatched maneuverability, allowing them to twist, dart, and ambush prey with predatory grace.

Their canine-like heads are adorned with delicate bioluminescent whiskers and tendrils, which serve both as lures and sensory tools, detecting even the faintest vibrations in the abyssal gloom. But their most fearsome adaptation lies within their jaws: a hidden set of pharyngeal jaws that can snap forward beyond their maw, extending their biting range to deliver a devastating, unexpected strike.

Yet brute force isn’t what makes Lumipines so dangerous. As Umbras, these reptilian predators possess a predatory cunning and innate magical prowess. Masters of illusion, they conjure shifting shapes and false forms to confuse and intimidate their prey—appearing larger, more numerous, or vanishing into the void entirely. Abyssal Otters, a favorite meal of the Lumipines, use their own magic to counter these deceptions, but even their clever tricks often fall short against the size, strength, and relentless coordination of the Lumipine packs.

Intelligent, adaptive, and fiercely cooperative, Lumipines are more than mere predators—they are deep-sea nightmares cloaked in flickering lights and shadowed lies.