The Village Head, who's name Huey still didn't know up until this point, was as immense and massive as he remembered, even while sitted.
With curling mane like hair rolling down his immense and broad shoulders, like a sprawling river of darkness, endowed and fitted with colourful feathers and bright ornaments, he sat there with the dominance and arrogance befitting a god — truly a giant amongst men.
And at the moment, the Head's eyes were softly shot close. A pale stream of light trickled into the dark somber chamber, casting a faint halo over his figure from a mosaic glass carved into the wall just behind his throne.
Once again, this made distinguishing his features clearly difficult. But Huey had no reason to bother. In the first place hadn't he already seen the full face and figure of the Village head before in the past.
As Huey stepped into the chamber, his back straight — his presence, abundant, didn't fall short in any means to the Head.
