The next familiar face I met was Derrick.
I had to yell his name three times before he heard me over the bellows he worked. From what I could see, it looked like he was working on making an iron ingot out of recycled horse shoes, mainly by the big crate of said broken horseshoes besides him. A sad waste of his talent, but useful nonetheless.
When he finally looked up at me, it was through a mass of hair. If I had thought he had been lazy on his hair grooming before, I had judge him sorely wrong. All I could see were his eyes admist his frizzy hair and beard, gleaming out like black buttons in the bright white fire licking out of the furnace besides him. The fact that he hadn't lost a single inch of his muscle and stature didn't help. I must have forgotten just how big Derrick was to think that Gus could have been the same size. The man truly had some bear-like genes.
I waved happily. "That is you in that big hairy thing, right Derrick?"