The air rushing past them carried the sound away.

The wind was cool, but not cold, on her face, and the air carried the mold of autumn.

The air, although still hot and heavy, carried in it the promise of night.

Out here they sounded almost free, as if the open air would carry them forever.

The air carried the stench of the fire, but it was cool and felt great.

The air still carried the smoky scent of the fires he had used.

The air still carried the chill of the night.

The air that moved over my face carried the sweet, clean smell of the sea.

The air of immunity had carried over into the present time of fear.

It was as if the air itself carried some virus, growing and dying.