The man’s skin was so black it held blue undertones, the true black of an elkhorn that had been burnished to the deepest ebony over a controlled fire. He looked like he was made of sticks, hodge-podged together in a semblance of a skinny old man. The head was much too large for the body. Bright electric blue tattooing gleamed against the anthracite parchment of flesh stretched tight over the thin bones that looked so brittle they’d break if he moved too suddenly. He wore only a stained white loin cloth.