Once more the mist curled back, provided him with an open space.

His body looked as white as the mist curling behind him.

He returned his attention to the spot where the mist had curled through the trees almost like arms reaching towards them.

She wore a long dress, the color of the mists curling outside the window.

Wolf could feel it now, even as he saw the slow mist curling around his ankles.

The mists curled away from where she sat, calm and comfortable in her own little circle of cool air.

He stood in a kind of frozen, sleepless horror while the mist curled slowly through him.

Mist curled from the opening and was tattered by the rotors.

No matter what mists might curl around her in the future, she knew her refuge.

They just watched, the mist of their breath curling before their faces.