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Initating breathing with emphysema
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Crouched back into my corner, peering through a sulfurous reek of fumes, I saw Ginny lurch and then jump for safety. She must have sensed the backlash.
Not only that, no sane animal crosses a wolf if he can possibly avoid it. It took me a while to get it right. Beldin had taught us all to assume the form of a bird, but I was on my own when it came to putting on fur and paws.
Her eyes seemed to go out of focus, and her voice lowered to a hiss. But if used for retribution, magic is vengeance incarnate. Well then, in your view, is this magic breathing with emphysema you say is about in the city being used for good, or evil?
When they'd slipped into his barracks quarters from the back, he was no longer so certain. He heard from a lieutenant all about the waterspouts and whirlpools, thinking while the man talked that this was his godsign, however obscure its meaning, and then he regretted having made an accommodation with the Froth Daughter all his angst came back upon him, and he wished he'd hugged his resolve firmly to his breast and driven Jihan hence.
But now? At the back emphysema of the ruins in the heaped shale and fallen scree, something stirred. The rubble formed a small mound, cracked open, and foul gases filtered up into the evening air.
Men were supposed to go mad with grief when their children died, he knew. They were supposed to tear their hair out by the roots, to curse the gods and swear red vengeance.