I could feel the heat of the sun still in his skin, and smell the warm dusty scent of sweat and oat grass.

I felt the burning salt against my cheek, I smelled the dusty scent of the palms, I watched him approach.

Kleg dropped the old man on a mound of dry hay, inhaled the dusty scent kicked up by the action, and began searching for something with which to revive the drunk.

Watching the stars, letting the warm, ever-present breeze blow over her, inhaling the dry, dusty scent of the grasses she lay in, feeling the earth press up against her back.

The dusty scent of sage filled the air, superseded at once by the pungency of an onion, whacked in two with a casual swipe of the cleaver and tossed into the mixture.

Grief and loss and fear racked me, and the dusty scent of death and white chalk filled my nostrils.

Scents flooded her senses as she inhaled to cry out-loam, honeysuckle, the odd, dusty scent of the trees themselves.

There was a dusty scent throughout the darkness; he smelled the odors of decay and mould.

The others could sniff the dusty scent of irony.

He nodded into her emerald hair, breathing the dusty scent of it.