On The Edge   von KAl
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                       Kapitel 4: Chapter IV ~ The East
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Phebulan’s golden eyes aimed clearly the creatures beneath him.
The black pupils grew slowly under the feeling of contempt.
His gleaming light-brown hair was thin, but it reached till his bony hips. There
was no wind, but it still floated mysteriously and suspiciously touched the
leaves all around him.
With a lithe motion he drew an arrow out of the quiver, which was strained over
his well formed back. 
He was very lank, but did not seem fragile. 
On his right shoulder there was a scar. It remotely looked like a brand which
must have been deeply burned into his flesh long time ago. It did not misshape
him, but made him even more elegant and desirable. 
Phebulan licked the wooden arrow on the arrowhead. 
His tongue was pointy and with his grin he looked like a fox, waiting for his
rabbit-trap to snap.
He applied the arrow to the streamlined bow, which he had held all the time.
The wood felt fair and glossy between his hands, when the firm sunlight fell
through the leafage on his pure green skin. 
The archer focused on his victims, stretched the bow and let the string snap. 
A gust of wind went through the leaves as if they wanted to applaud him and his
hair fluttered excitingly, while the death rattle of the sight disks beneath
filled the air with shiver.
His eyes still focused on the marvellous death-play below and in his face there
was neither a sign of nervousness, nor the feeling of guilt.
His long darker green-coloured tail, which lengthened his distinctive backbone
vibrated under the excitement cause what he saw amused him.
He closed his eyes and grinned again, before he disappeared.

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