His mirth told his identify before eyes could mark him.

Those eyes alone marked the presence of the living being who was driving forth to a mysterious quest.

Its slitted eyes seemed to follow their movements and mark them as prey once they had chosen seats.

In an instant his eye marked it as a crude hand bomb.

His eyes, though, marked the nightmare of the dream walker.

His eyes locked on the map and the hollows marked upon it.

Sunlight moved across the floor in increments so small that only an ancient eye could mark them.

His eyes marked the space through which the knife had dropped.

The tall man's square face and steady eyes marked him as the leader of the group.

Some eye had picked them out and marked the name of the writer.