The Picture of Eragon
The night was filled with a rich odor of change, and when the airy scented wind howled amidst the trees of the forest, there came to the tall Shade the surprising message that they were here, or the more insidious idea that it was a trap.
From around a thick tree in the trail, on which he was standing, sniffing, as was his custom, innumerable Urgals, the Shade could just catch the gleam of the short swords and round shields of the Urgals, whose bowed legs seemed hardly able to bear the weight of arms so made for crushing as theirs; and now and then the monsters hurried into the bushes that were placed in front of the trees, producing a kind of momentary rustling effect, and making him think of those brutish twisted-horned Urgals who, through the grunting that is necessary to hide, seek to stop whoever is coming or die.
The Picture of Dorian Gray
The studio was filled with the rich odour of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden, there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn.
From the corner of the divan of Persian saddle-bags on which he was lying, smoking, as was his custom, innumerable cigarettes, Lord Henry Wotton could just catch the gleam of the honey-sweet and honey-coloured blossoms of a laburnum, whose tremulous branches seemed hardly able to bear the burden of a beauty so flame-like as theirs; and now and then the fantastic shadows of birds in flight flitted across the long tussore-silk curtains that were stretched in front of the huge window, producing a kind of momentary Japanese effect, and making him think of those pallid jade-faced painters of Tokyo who, through the medium of art that is necessarily immobile, seek to convey the sense of swiftness and motion.
Eragon
Wind howled through the night, carrying a scent that would change the world. A tall Shade lifted his head and sniffed the air. He looked human except for his crimson hair and maroon eyes.
He blinked in surprise. The message had been correct: they were here. Or was it a trap? He weighed the odds, then said icily, "Spread out; hide behind trees and bushes. Stop whoever is coming...or die."
Around him shuffled twelve Urgals with short swords and round iron shields painted with black symbols. They resembled men with bowed legs and thick, brutish arms made for crushing. A pair of twisted horns grew above their small ears. The monsters hurried into the brush, grunting as they hid. Soon the rustling quieted and the forest was silent again.
The Shade peered around a thick tree and looked up the trail.
From around a thick tree in the trail, on which he was standing, sniffing, as was his custom, innumerable Urgals, the Shade could just catch the gleam of the short swords and round shields of the Urgals, whose bowed legs seemed hardly able to bear the weight of arms so made for crushing as theirs; and now and then the monsters hurried into the bushes that were placed in front of the trees, producing a kind of momentary rustling effect, and making him think of those brutish twisted-horned Urgals who, through the grunting that is necessary to hide, seek to stop whoever is coming or die.
The Picture of Dorian Gray
The studio was filled with the rich odour of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden, there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn.
From the corner of the divan of Persian saddle-bags on which he was lying, smoking, as was his custom, innumerable cigarettes, Lord Henry Wotton could just catch the gleam of the honey-sweet and honey-coloured blossoms of a laburnum, whose tremulous branches seemed hardly able to bear the burden of a beauty so flame-like as theirs; and now and then the fantastic shadows of birds in flight flitted across the long tussore-silk curtains that were stretched in front of the huge window, producing a kind of momentary Japanese effect, and making him think of those pallid jade-faced painters of Tokyo who, through the medium of art that is necessarily immobile, seek to convey the sense of swiftness and motion.
Eragon
Wind howled through the night, carrying a scent that would change the world. A tall Shade lifted his head and sniffed the air. He looked human except for his crimson hair and maroon eyes.
He blinked in surprise. The message had been correct: they were here. Or was it a trap? He weighed the odds, then said icily, "Spread out; hide behind trees and bushes. Stop whoever is coming...or die."
Around him shuffled twelve Urgals with short swords and round iron shields painted with black symbols. They resembled men with bowed legs and thick, brutish arms made for crushing. A pair of twisted horns grew above their small ears. The monsters hurried into the brush, grunting as they hid. Soon the rustling quieted and the forest was silent again.
The Shade peered around a thick tree and looked up the trail.