Calling it a village wasn't quite accurate.
It was more like a natural forest formed from countless interwoven trees.
The tree branches had fused together in a bizarre way, crisscrossing to support one another. Their intersections formed all sorts of passageways. Though clearly a natural formation, it also bore traces of artificial intervention.
Pitch-black hollows in the trees crisscrossed like an anthill, winding their way deep into the forest, their other exits hidden from view.
The arrival of the Fishman Race quickly attracted the attention of the creatures inside the hollows. They jumped down one by one, gathering curiously beside the group of Fishmen.
A tree root shot toward Jeff. The Fishmen reacted as if facing a great enemy; their individual components took flight, vigilantly aiming at the root.
But Jeff paid it no mind. After calling for the others to stand down, he allowed the root to wrap around his body.
