The Father hovered there, translucent and massive, he rested his chin casually on a hand made of dense, bright-blue pressure.
He looked down at Ikemefuna with a gaze that reminded one of the sleepy curiosity of a giant whale.
"I am indeed. Amongst many other things of course.
Sadly, I do not have a Tohunga present to chant my honorifics"
"A Tohunga?" Ikem asked.
"A ritual specialist, priests."
Ikemefuna nodded once more.
"What of the old lady then, Hinewai, she praised you in front of us."
The Father spared him the same lazy glance.
"I am Tangaroa, Atua of oceans and sea.
I am the ocean itself,
"My breath is the very wave that crashes against shores, I am the waters themselves.
All that lives within me and upon me, are my children."
Dark lines appeared on his skin as he quoted his holy names, some plankton had changed colour, their ambience becoming a deep midnight black.
These lines ran as tattoos above the rest of his body.
