He found the phenomenon truly interesting, but the flames made no impression on him.

In the mist the small flame made a glow many times its size.

The little flame made him feel more in control.

Then, the flame made its way to the large cauldron, signaling the start of the games.

The flames received this as a helpful attention, and made the most of it.

The tiny flames lit his face and made it mobile.

Yes, and I saw more, for at the attic window, which was open, the flames making an arch round her, sat my mother.

A small flame of anger made her beautiful eyes sparkle.

He liked the way the flickering flame made her eyes sparkle.

And those purple flames near the bottom make the mouth- you have savage teeth, my friend.