"I'm an archer," Abir said, proudly, pushing his chin up and folding his arms. "One of the best. I've been training with a bow as long as I can remember." He rolled back his sleeve and flexed his arm, revealing that while it was not large, it was strong. Wiry, defined muscles revealed themselves. "Take a look at that. I may be pretty, but I am not frail, my love."<br/><br/>Abir was well-aware of how he came off to most people. Feminine. Soft. And he didn't mind that at all. In fact, he'd played up many of his softer features for the sake of appearing more beautiful. He'd tried more masculine looks before, but they never seemed to fit his facial structure. What was more, the Fullarrow people couldn't grow beards, mustaches, or any kind of facial hair.<br/><br/>"I'm not a hunter in the sense of tracking," he said. "My archery is mostly to protect us against bandits and predators. But, if we spot something you need me to shoot I can surely get it."