Part eighty-six - There are far better things to do than sulk in a corner while chewing meat on a stick, you know.

That same man stepped into view, wearing black and silver robes of impossible refinement. 

The fabric shimmered faintly with intricate weaving, each folds catching the light. A shiny ornament of obsidian and silver fastened at his collar extended outward in delicate chains that attached to his sides, like the ribs of some divine beast. 

His long black hair flowed freely behind him, blowing slightly in the wind like one of those hair commercials, and cascaded like water through the air.

Gasps echoed throughout the plaza. A ripple of unease, reverence, and awe spread through the crowd like a wave.