BanditoWalrus

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: The Flitterick

The flitterick was a type of flying squirrel, which was extremely fast and even dangerous. They were very territorial, and would dive-bomb intruders with surprising speed and force. They dove so fast that they were capable of striking a fully-grown ox dead if they struck between the ox's eyes.

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: The Corn Imps. Legend states that when Paul Bunyan tried his hand at planting a cornstalk, it grew to massive proportions (as everything tends to do around Paul). The story of Paul's cornstalk is rather common and found in many states, but one specific Wisconsinite version of the story (incidentally written by Gene Shepard, the creator of the hodag) goes further to claim that this cornstalk was so massive that its roots reached hell itself. The cornstalk became a literal portal to the underworld, and from it emerged small, demonic imps, each carrying an ear of corn with them. The story didn't really detail what the imps did after they arrived in Wisconsin... presumably they got up to some devilish, corn-related shenanigans.

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: The Milwaukee Lizard Things

An obscure cryptid, these dog-sized lizards are thought to dwell in the City of Milwaukee itself, either in or around the Milwaukee River. They are described as having bright, yellow eyes, and are said to make short, hideous yells.

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: The Fisher River Pond Borer. This drill-faced creature with protruding eyes reportedly caused problems for farmers around the area of the Fisher River, as it liked to dig tunnels underground in order to drain the ponds that farmers rely upon. Combating the pond borer proved to be difficult, since many farmers refused to believe it existed, and its drill allowed it to drill through any trap and escape. Eventually the problem was stopped when bentonite was adopted as a pond sealer, since that's the one thing the pond borer can't drill through. There were reportedly two varieties of pond borer, one of which bore a longer, spiked tail. The creature was first reported and described by Clyde Wynia, a lawyer from Marshfield, Wisconsin. Later in his life, Wynia went on to become a successful folk artist, wending together monsters and dragons out of rusty metal at his "Jurustic Park." In honor of Wynia's legend and in respect to his work as a folk artist, I tried to make my illustration feel as if it would be at home in Jurustic Park along with all the other rust monsters and "Iron Age" creatures that dwell there.

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: The Rumptifusel of Wisconsin Lumberjack Lore. It was an incredibly flat creature with a furry backside and a fleshy underbelly covered in sucking pores. It was a dangerous ambush predator which would drape itself over a branch in the forest, appearing to be a fine fur coat when draped in this way. Any lumberjack who tried to interact with this seeming coat would have the rumptifusel wrap around them, crushing them to death and sucking the flesh off of their bones. It was said that owl pellets were all that was left over of a lumberjack caught by a rumptifusel.

Ever since I started really diving into State and local history, I've been noticing a lot of crap like this: People performatively want to look like they care about Native Americans, and so they'll post a sign or try to say something about Native American history... without putting in any effort of actually learning the history in question.

They don't actually care, they just want to LOOK like they care about Native American history.

Case in point here, this sign is something I saw in a hotel in Oak Creek, Wisconsin, claiming that the "first inhabitants of the land now known as Oak Creek" were the Potawatomi, followed by a list of basic facts about the Potawatomi that you'd probably be able to find in the first paragraph of their Wikipedia article.

But here's the thing: The main claim on this sign is just wrong.

As far as we can tell, the Ho-Chunk were the first people to live in this area. (There perhaps was someone there even earlier, but the Ho-Chunk are really the earliest that history can confirm.)

The Potawatomi came to Wisconsin itself relatively recently. Originally from what is now southern Michigan, they fled West into Wisconsin when the Iroquois tried to genocide them. They arrived in what is now Door County sometime before the French arrived in Wisconsin, and gradually began moving south along the eastern shores of Wisconsin, coming to what is now Oak Creek before that land was then purchased from them by Yankee colonists.

The Ho-Chunk didn't really like the fact the Potawatomi were occupying their land, but following the Battle of Death's Door (in which a windstorm capsized Ho-Chunk and Potawatomi war canoes and killed many warriors on both sides) they didn't really have the manpower and strength to drive the Potawatomi out.

But because the land was purchased from the Potawatomi, these people who want to appear as if they are knowledgeable in Native American history just assume that they must have always lived here, and that this is like their ancestral homeland spanning back to the dawn of time.

And so stuff like this ends up on signage, spreading misinfo about the history of the land, and obfuscating the actual history.

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: The Italiens or Fions, covering both the Antigo Alien and the Eagle River Aliens. The Eagle River Aliens being one of Wisconsin's most famous alien encounters. Because of the pancakes.

Both the Antigo Alien and Eagle River Aliens resembled extremely short Italian men, hence why they are sometimes referred to as "Italiens" (which is unquestionably the best name for them)

The Antigo alien was encountered by a woman who owned a diner in Antigo, who spouted off a lot of nonsense about strange lights in the sky before mysteriously disappearing.

The Eagle River aliens, on the other hand, were encountered by Joe Simonton, a local chicken farmer and mall Santa. They landed their silver flying saucer in his yard, and asked him for a pitcher of water.

In return, the Italiens gave him some pancakes, which according to Simonton, tasted terribly. “If that’s what they lived on," he remarked, "no wonder they’re small.”

Now all this went down around the time of Project Blue Book, so the US Air Force took this encounter very seriously, and even sent the pancakes off for analysis. The analysis revealed they were normal pancakes, the only thing unusual about them were that they contained no salt and were made of buckwheat rather than wheat flour.

And of course, as Wisconsin's leading gnome expert, I HAVE to mention the gnome angle here!

Ufologist Jacques Vallée, who went through Project Blue Book encounters and compared them to encounters recorded in traditional European folklore, has pointed out strong parallels between the Italiens and the Fions of Breton folklore.

The fions are the gnomes of Breton mythology, and Vallée has pointed out several stories in which they gifted humans with buckwheat pancakes. The fions, like many faerie folk, were kept away using salt, which would also explain why Simonton's buckwheat pancakes were saltless.

And so if ya ask me (and you SHOULD ask me, since I am the definitive expert in the field of Wisconsinite gnomes), the UFO phenomenon is not the result of extraterrestrial life forms, but is instead explainable via gnomish technology. This is the more rational explanation, given the fact aliens are obviously fake, while gnomes are plainly and evidently real.

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: The Will-o'-the-Wisp. Probably my second favorite gnome type for aesthetics alone.

The Will-o'-the-wisps were a type of gnome from the legends of Wisconsin's lumbermen and game wardens. They emerged at night in the marshlands of Wisconsin, carrying blue lanterns with them, thereby explaining the atmospheric light phenomenon.

By night, they went around making sure all the animals of the marsh were tucked in and sleeping. They patrolled the marsh and looked over all the diurnal critters as they slept.

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: The Humpdumple.

A legend from Wisconsinite game wardens, the humdumple is a warty, one-eyed, potato-faced dwarf with massive, misshapen feet. He loves nothing more than to ruin new roads and trails, and so whenever a new one is constructed, he emerges by night and stumbles around with his massive, heavy feet, causing potholes to form.

On this day in history March 9th, in the year 1935, Wisconsinite heroes fought a valiant duel for the rights of Wisconsin cheese, and in doing so brought civilization and culture to Iowa! This is the story of the Great Limburger Duel of Dubuque!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dRYKYEIEEAI

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: The Pleiadians or Nordics

Wisconsin has a ton of alien and UFO sightings. POSSIBLY the U.P. of Michigan has more, though that's debatable, but we're the very least in second place!

The Pleiadians are one of many different alien species that people (including Wisconsinites) have reported encountering. They are compared to Scandinavians in appearance, as they are tall, blond, and blue eyed, but are notably taller than even your average Scandinavian, and are far more beautiful.

The Pleiadians are also often cast as one of the few benevolent alien species out there, and are believed to be trying to spiritually uplift Earth in some way.

All that is the general lore about the Pleiadians you can find in ufology circles all around the world.

But the Wisconsin-specific Pleiadian lore adds on a new angle.

Wisconsin has three different towns which all claim to be the "UFO Capital of the World", and one of these towns, Dundee, has a large amount of reported Pleiadian encounters.

And it's from this that we learn the most important detail of the Pleiadians (at least, the most important detail if you're a Wisconsinite): The Pleiadians are avid Packers fans, who regularly travel to Wisconsin to attend Packers games, disguised as regular humans.

So they may be called the Nordics, but they are CULTURALLY and SPIRITUALLY Cheeseheads!

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: The Devil Jack Diamond The devil jack diamond was a giant fish covered in stony, diamond-shaped, bulletproof scales. The legend originated in the Ohio River, but eventually spread to the Upper Mississippi, therefore coming into the lore of Wisconsin. It is also the product of a truly skillful and excellent trolling operation on the part of the naturalist John James Audubon. Audubon was once visited by French naturalist Constantine Samuel Rafinesque, who was such a rude, eccentric weirdo that Audubon soon came to despise Rafinesque. And so, as an elaborate form of revenge, Audubon gave Rafinesque the descriptions of ten fake fish that supposedly dwelled in the Ohio River, knowing that Rafinesque would accept Audubon's word uncritically. Rafinesque went on to publish a book about North American wildlife that included these ten fake and absurd fish, thereby tanking his reputation and giving Audubon the revenge he desired. Of all the fake fish of the Ohio River, the only one that stuck around in legend was the devil jack diamond, which was basically the most absurd fish Audubon had described. Perhaps for that reason, the legend stood out and was able to spread along the Mississippi, despite its origin as an elaborate troll on Rafinesque.

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: The beasts of the "Tall Tales Postcards."

The "Tall Tales Postcards" were the precursors to modern photoshopped memes. It was an artistic trend in the early 20th century which depicted a fantastical, larger-than-life version of Wisconsin through postcards.

These were made by cutting up photographs, collaging them together, and then taking a new photo of the composite image. Basically manually doing what memers do with photoshop today.

A lot of these tall tale postcards feature insanely large produce, boasting at our agricultural prowess. Others depict giant animals. Especially gigantic fish (because of course).

One of my favorite themes in the tall tale postcard is the depiction of Wisconsinite "buck hunts." Except rather than a typical buck hunt, these were referring to "bucks" as in "male rabbits," and showed hunters going up against scores of gigantic bunnies.

My illustration here is a recreation of a tall-tale postcard which depicted "kickers," gigantic frogs which lashed out at unwary hunters with their powerful legs.

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: The Mineral Point Vampire Pretty much Wisconsin's only prominent vampire legend, this entity has been spotted from time to time in the area of Mineral Point. He is described as over six feet tall in height, ugly as skin, and so pale that it looks like his skin was painted white. Attempts to catch or apprehend the vampire have failed, as he is seemingly able to jump ridiculous heights and escape over fences and walls. For this reason he is sometimes compared with the legend of Springheel Jack.

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: The Log Gar. The log gar was a giant fish from Wisconsin lumberjack legend, which possessed a double-row of saw teeth. They liked to sharpen their teeth by attacking floating logs, quickly sawing through them. This made them dangerous to the rivermen who rafted the logs downriver, who might find their raft of logs suddenly under attack by the massive fish.

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: The Psychic Crabs. These entities are tied to the "Burlington Vortex", a supposed vortex of psychic/electromagnetic energy located near Burlington, Wisconsin, which has a whole LOT of wild lore associated with it! The psychic crabs are one of the entities which is thought to dwell in that area, and which can be revealed through the use of "psychic photography." Basically, strange things happen to photos taken in the area of the Vortex, and these guys sometimes appear in the images. These appear on photographs as luminescent, mosquito-or-crab-like beings. The psychic mediums who claim to have communicated with them describe them as "psychic bottomfeeders," feeding off of mental clutter and garbage.

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: The Gloflikop.

It's one of Wisconsin's goofier lumberjack legends, and supposedly a legend with Native American roots (probably made up by a Native lumberjack or else just falsely attributed to Natives).

The gloflikops were giant police officer fireflies. They worked for the Great Spirit, and were sent out to patrol the forests at night, to keep watch on the nocturnal animals, and made sure none of them got up to trouble.

So, essentially, a race of divinely-ordained bioluminescent insectoid Judge Dredds, ensuring law and order in the Northwoods.

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: The Splintercats. There are three distinct versions of the splintercat legend, each version larger and stranger than the last. The first version is rather simple: A cat with a dense wedge of bone above its nose, which it uses to headbutt hollow trees apart, looking for beehives or raccoons hiding inside the rotten tree, upon which the splintercat feeds. The second version is as big as a calf, has hind legs more like a kangaroo than a feline, and has porcupine-like quills, but facing forwards rather than backwards. This spintercat is strong enough to headbutt living trees apart, but only softwoods and not the hardwoods. It also eats honey, and will knock down any tree that has a beehive. The final version is a massive cat, the size of an elephant, with a one-eyed, gigantic stone for a head. This splintercat can knock down any tree, and eats the wood of the trees themselves. All three splintercats were said to be most active during thunderstorms. The sound of thunder was sometimes thought to be the sound of a splintercat knocking over a tree.

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: The Shovel Faced Oscar

This weird critter comes from the lore of Wisconisn game wardens, reportedly named after the man who discovered them. The shovel faced oscars lived underwater in ponds and lakes, and would use their shovel faces to dig out small trenches for fish to use as spawning beds.

@azure@clubcyberia.co My test reader is ALMOST done, should be a few weeks and then I'll be submitting it to a few publishers I have in mind. If none of them want it, then I'll be self-publishing.

@grips@cawfee.club My three-year-old daughter has been getting into Pokemon lately... I fear that my more recent art may be getting a bit Pokemon-coded as a result. XD

@sun Some of "the Great Clown Panic" was indeed guerilla marketing, but it was for some indy film made by a guy in Wisconsin, not the It remake. I don't think it was caused by that marketing campaign so much as that campaign latched on to and amplified a trend of random pranks.

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: The Windigo Dog.

Under the traditional lore for the windigo, it wasn't only humans which could contract the windigo curse. There were legends which stated that snowmen could become cursed and become real windigos (and so some groups had taboos against building snowmen) but there were also some legends that animals could become windigos as well.

Within Wisconsin legend, the only animals I could find becoming windigos were specifically all dogs. These windigo dogs served as hunting hounds for the regular type of windigo, and had the same rotting, emaciated appearance as their masters.

They were also incredibly hard to kill with conventional means, with one legend reporting that a windigo dog took many bullets to the head before going down.

The windigo dogs seem to have all the weaknesses of the typical windigo... including the windigo's weakness to regular dogs. Thus there are some stories where a hero's own dog will fight and kill the windigo dogs while the hero takes on the windigo itself.

Ah crap, just realized that the ox picture has the wrong horn producing the feast... Thankfully just need to flip the image and it's good... XD

@jobanab I almost feel like there should be a cultural push for open source art the way there was for code.

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: If you were online between 2015 and 2016, you almost certainly remember this one: The Phantom Clowns.

Starting in 2015, all across America, there were a ton of sightings of creepy clowns for a month or two. Wisconsin specifically was rather prominent in the clown craze.

One of the earliest clown sightings was Carroll University, in Waukesha. Additionally, one of the most iconic clown photos of this time period (which this illustration is an homage to) was taken in Green Bay.

Of course Wisconsin has a huge history with circuses, so our phantom clown legends aren't limited to the 2015 Clown Craze. We had phantom clowns before it was cool, dating at least back to the 1980's.

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: EVERYTHING that's in Devil's Lake. Yesterday I posted the monsters of Long Lake and mentioned it has one of the largest varieties of monsters in the State. That got me thinking that today I should present THE lake with the MOST monsters and spirits in or around it according to local lore: Devil's Lake. Some of today's entries are repeats, things I've posted before. But I think it's worth putting together something with EVERYTHING that Devil's Lake has to offer, to show just how deep the lore of this one lake goes! To start, there is a flying ghost canoe seen hovering over the lake from time to time. Not much is known about it, apart from it being a modern legend and similar to many other ghost canoe legends found statewide. There is also a belief among the Native Ho-Chunk that various large boulders around the state which are shaped like human faces had powerful, protective spirits dwelling within them. One of the cliff faces surrounding Devil's Lake is one such rock. The Lake was also believed by the Ho-Chunk to be the dwelling place of the wakcéxi, or water-spirits. Hodag-shaped creatures analogous to both the underwater panthers and the horned serpents in the legends of other Native groups. The wakcéxi used the lake to travel to different worlds in the cosmos, as the lake was both bottomless and thought to bridge the worlds. The thunderbirds were believed to do battle with the wakcéxi at the site of the lake from time to time. The thunderbirds would drop their eggs like bombs down at the lake-dwelling wakcéxi, and the wakcéxi would conjure up waterspouts to fire boulders back up at the thunderbirds. This was said to be the reason why the land around Devil's Lake is covered with boulders. Eventually the son of a wakcéxi chief captured the son of the thunderbird chief in battle, and the wakcéxi forced the thunderbirds to agree to a peace treaty. As part of the treaty, the thunderbird chief's son married the wakcéxi chief's daughter. The couple had a son, which for reasons of "spirit genetics is just weird like that" ended up being a merman. The merman was thought to still dwell in the lake. One green-colored wakcéxi in specific was said to have dwelled in Devil's Lake and to have demanded virgin sacrifices from the Ho-Chunk living near the area. In later times, American pioneers in the area had a legend of a seven-headed green dragon which dwelled in the lake and which demanded virgin sacrifice from the Natives. A pretty clear instance of the earlier wakcéxi legend transforming. The dragon could only be killed if shot in the left eye of its central head. Americans in the late 19th century also thought the lake contained plesiosaur-like monsters known as the "hokuwa," which allegedly originated in earlier Nakota legends. The hokuwa was witnessed several times in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. It's perhaps worth mentioning that there are a LOT of plesiosaur legends in Wisconsin... and most of them suspiciously emerged after Nessie got popularized. However, the hokuwa of Devil's Lake is an exception to this, as the legend was around long before Loch Ness became popular. In more modern times, people have also reported seeing a kraken-like octopus monster in the lake. The Devil's Lake kraken is one of Wisconsin's three kraken legends, along with the Lake Superior kraken and the Whitewater kraken. Finally we get to Cthulhu and the Deep Ones. See, there's this sex cult in Chicago which not only unironically believes that H.P. Lovecraft was writing factual truth disguised as fiction, but they believed H.P. Lovecraft's friend, the author August Derleth when Derleth claimed that Devil's Lake was a "Cthulhu Power Zone." The cult, known as La Couleuvre Noire, believes that the lake is a portal to R'lyeh, and from time to time they perform rituals on the shores of the lake to commune with the deep ones. Pretty much no lake in the state of Wisconsin has as much legends as Devil's Lake, apart from MAYBE the Great Lakes, and that's ONLY if you count the non-Wisconsinite legends tied to those lakes. In terms of Wisconsin lore, this lake is the deepest, which is perhaps fitting given the Ho-Chunk belief that the lake is bottomless.

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: The Burlington Vortex Tulpoids.

Today we have the "tulpoid creatures" found in the area of the Burlington Vortex. I've... kinda been putting off posting a lot of the entities connected to the "Burlington Vortex" just because the Vortex is a crazy deep rabbit hole with a bunch of attached lore to it.

The quickest version I can give you here, is that the Burlington Vortex is an area near Burlington, Wisconsin, where it is relatively common for strange things to happen when you take photographs. Weird distortions, "elfin currents," and strange entities seem to appear on the photos you take there.

A lot of this has been catalogued by a paranormal researcher named Mary Sutherland, who has reported a whole host of paranormal entities showing up on photo in the Burlington area, each with their associated lore. A lot of her work is documented on her website, https://www.burlingtonnews.net/ (but we warned you are about to enter a ridiculously deep rabbit hole obfuscated by 90's web design aesthetics)

The entity for today is the "tulpoid," which according to the Burlington Vortex lore, is an entity born of pure thought that can sometimes be caught on camera in the area of the Vortex. This specific tulpoid design on this image was from a "scorpion tulpoid" that appeared in one of Mary Sutherland's photos.

There's... a lot more entities connected to the Vortex, though. Fairies, elves, djinn, giants, gray aliens, bigfoots, nymphs, sylphs... it's kind of a everything-but-the-kitchen-sink area in terms of legendary creatures. I'll get around to posting them all in time.

@LivingSpaceStudios @TenaciousGoat I think the main difference is when a programmer's work gets used by another programmer, their reaction is "Oh, cool, I made part of this!" When an artist's work gets used by another artist, their reaction is "I AM OWED!" Programmers generally love to see their work flourish, spread, and grow, whereas many artists feel entitlement instead of satisfaction when their own work spreads.

Throwing together a little project to be released March 9th, to celebrate the anniversary of one of Wisconsin's greatest cultural victories.

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: The American Tyger.

This is something of a two-for, covering the large cats separately reported by the explorers John Carver and Fr. Jacques Marquette.

Carver reported seeing a large "tyger of America" on an island on the Chippewa river, which he said was of a tawny color, had tasseled ears like a bobcat, and was a bit smaller then the tigers of Asia.

Marquette similarly reported a "tiger-headed" monster in the Mississippi River, which likewise was described with tasseled ears.

Marquette's tiger is also often confused in how it is described by folklorists and cryptozoology types (who I think are working off of bad translations of his account). Marquette told of three separate things:

1. Native Americans told him about a man-eating demon that lived in the Mississippi.

2. He saw a tiger-headed creature swimming in the Mississippi.

3. While on the Mississippi he encountered large fish which collided with his canoe.

Rather frequently, folklorists will combine these three separate things into one and will say something like Marquette encountered a "giant tiger-headed fish that Natives said was a man-eating demon."

But in reality, these were three separate events.

There haven't been any sightings of wild tigers in Wisconsin apart from these two explorers, but that hasn't stopped some cryptid-enjoyers from speculating that there must be a hidden species of tiger lurking somewhere on Wisconsin's waterways.

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: The Fire Specter.

Previously I've covered entities connected to the Great Peshtigo Fire, and this entity is similar, but connected to a different series of fires that occurred in the area of Black River Falls in 1977: the Saratoga Fire, the Brockway Fire, and the Airport Fires.

Not only was the fire specter thought to be responsible for those series of fires, but is believed to haunt the area causing other minor fires, and stealing souls. It is said to manifest as either St. Elmo's fire or as a fiery blue humanoid.

It can also manifest as a face inside of a campfire, where it will attempt to hypnotize a person, causing them to immolate themselves within the campfire, allowing the fire specter to claim their soul.

There are a bunch of competing origin stories for the specter. Some say it was summoned to the region by witches and wizards who immigrated from Germany and has haunted the land ever since.

Some say the specter is an errand boy for the Devil himself, and that a portal to hell exists somewhere in an abandoned mine in the area.

A third legend states that it was created from a curse when a medicine man was killed while praying upon Bell Mound (he was ironically slain by other Native Americans, who assumed he was a white man desecrating the mound in some way).

I think it's because I'm from a programming background, but now that I've been paying more attention to online art communities I find a lot of the attitudes within online artist circles to be obnoxious. Like I just want to share my art with people. But a lot of other artists are, like, psychotically controlling over even really low-effort stuff. People will absolutely ruin their art going over-the-board with watermarks trying to make sure that no one can steal an image no one ever would want to steal in the first place. Meanwhile in the programming community, releasing your work so that other people can use it is just, like, a common practice. There's a mentality of "Sure, take my work and build on to it! That's what it's there for brother!" Meanwhile in artist spaces people will be like "You clearly copied this character's pose from my work, you've STOLEN from me!" Just completely different mindsets between the two.

"Pinky the Ninja Mosasaurus", made an image based on a character my three-year-old daughter came up with. Originally she was holding the ninja sword with her flipper, but my daughter said "No that's not right" and explained that obviously the sword should be protruding from the ninja-mosasaurus' back. Also initially asked me to make her blue. Then had me change to red. Then purple. But now, finally, the image is perfect. Following the whims of a three-year-old's OC design has been fun!

Illustrating every legendary creature in Wisconsin folklore: The Guyanther. Also called the Hornicorn (by my daughter and no one else).

The guyanther was an aggressive, territorial creature most often compared to a unicorn in appearance. It possessed claws on its feet rather than hooves, and each claw was arranged around the pad of a foot in a perfectly circular pattern, making it impossible to track.

If a guyanther found an intruder into its pine forest, it would always charge and attempt to impale the intruder on its single horn. Lumberjacks who encountered a guyanther were told to stand in front of a pine tree, and dodge at the last moment. The guyanther's horn would go straight through the soft wood of the pine, and the lumberjack could quickly hammer the other end of the horn, causing the guyanther to become stuck and allowing the 'jack to escape.

This particular fearsome critter illustration I made a little less fearsome and a little more majestic than it is normally portrayed, on account of "I'm a dad with a three year old daughter who likes unicorns." :p

Some might point out that there's so little to this legend there's almost no point in illustrating it but... Well when I said EVERY legendary creature, I meant it lol.