Hugin was chosen, among all the boys of the village, to compete in the Races. He had grown up, the child of a simple, lovely baker, and his wife, the wolf-hunter. Hugin wore his hair in simple golden waves and had the longest legs anyone had ever seen, coated in fine, silky down. When the yearly selection began, other boys watched Hugin.
This reads like some of the Icelandic biskupasǫgur or Bishop’s Sagas. The physical beauty of men isn’t a big feature of any other sagas I’ve read, though.
