Standing on the southern bank of the wide river that separated them from the jungle,were three people. It was dusk,but even the fading light couldn't hide the trees so temptingly near. they didn't notice the beauty of the setting sun brushing the tops of the trees a pale golden red or the flocks of crows ,parrots,mynahs and koels flying across, calling loudly as they returned to their nests deep in the jungle.in the minds of two of the three persons, the jungle was already razed and they were calculating their wealth from such destruction. They would become multi-millionaires from selling the timber and exploiting the cleared land. But for the third person ,who stood slightly apart from the other two,and had no interest in money,the jungle held secret that she had searched for many years.
Barang was taller than her companions, slim and shapely, and wore a fine black silk outfit and black, knee-high boots. She had an oval face which could have been beautiful, but it was marred by a triangular beak of a nose which she caressed as if to reassure herself it hadn't moved.she had once considered having the shape changed by plastic surgery into something more suitable ----- a gentle curve with a Bob at the end----- but it was a genetic inheritance and she was ultimately reluctant to change the feature that made her so mesmeric to strangers.people could never take their eyes off her cruel nose.her eyes were as black as the clothes she wore. They were like dead zones in her face and because of that it was hard to read varang's moods. On her left wrist was a bright gold Rolex watch , man- sized,which she looked at frequently, and on the fingers of both hands she wore rings with precious stones inset in them. Every now and then her fingers flexed out like talons, clawed the empty air and returned to the folds of her garment.she paced a few feet away from her two companions and stared out across the silvery river.