Quotes from Heliana's Guide to Monster Hunting
"Yells and chuckles are common sounds around the home of any rakin (RACK-in) thanks to their shared love language: pranks. From sewer-side burrows to palatial penthouses, wattle-and-daub huts to intricate treetop villages, rakin can be found at all levels of society, a product of their ingeniousness and habit of getting into trouble. One is rarely bored around a rakin.

Deific Origins

The mistaken spawn of a passionate tryst between deities of trickery and nature, rakin hold a deep affinity for both domains. Since their creation, they have had little contact with either god, learning to rely on their own wits to survive. Trickery. As rakin society progressed, their culture grew to value trickery and subterfuge. Good-natured pranks sprang from their paws as instinctively as breathing. Honed against the fearsome beasts of the forest, this innate talent to deceive helped the rakin bloom as a civilisation. Tales are still told of how Mack Gyver fought off a rampaging owlboar with nought but a goodberry, a silver needle, and a pig’s bladder. Pranks. Rakin politics, religion, and interpersonal relationships revolve around the idea of practical jokes. An atmosphere of one-up-manship and lighthearted merriment suffuses all of their wheelings and dealings. Even when faced with the most horrid of circumstances, a rakin’s first instinct is to crack a joke.

Ideological Chasm

After centuries of living in chaotic mirth, an ideological battle split rakin culture in two when they first made contact with other humanoids. Many of the rakin were intrigued by cities—forests of stone and steel; organized, yet unpredictable, and full of opportunity. The elders forbade them to interact, alleging such civilization to be directly counter to the chaos that nature intended, the principle upon which rakin culture was built. The debacle spiralled into a full-on feud between the opposing rakin factions, sundering the once united race. The urkin broke with tradition and followed their ambition into the cities, whilst the tanukin remained in their indigenous forests, adhering to their ancestral ways.

Posskin

While the tanukin and urkin found homes in forests and cities, a third, smaller contingent embraced their wanderlust and a life of vagabond. With the road as their home, posskin never settle in one place for long and are well adapted to the harsh conditions associated with constantly sleeping outdoors. Their ability to withstand disease enables them to act as scavengers, feasting on the left-to-rot remains of other carnivores. Should they ever find themselves the target of a territorial creature, their innate ability to play dead can often trick such aggressors into believing they are no longer a threat and leaving them alone, if a little bloodied. Posskin might find employ in a variety of walks of life. From hedge knights to circus performers, travelling snake oil salesmen to chronic dumpster divers, so long as the job keeps moving, a posskin stays happy.

Posskin Names.

The words used to name a posskin are more than just sounds; they are a story. A posskin’s name recounts its journey so far, a litany of major life events since birth. The more adventurous the life, the longer the name. The name Leo Charrburned Halfleg might specify a young (and unfortunate) posskin born under the sign of the lion, who was burned in a forest fire, and later lost their lower leg to a bear."