The torch was moving forward again.

Lighted torches did move in the camp.

The torches were moving, winding down the Processional Way around the Tor.

A few flickering torches moved along the canyon rim as sentries marched between the lookout posts on the outer ridges.

The torches were now moving onto the bridge.

The torch moved more quickly now, cutting a circular hole just large enough for a human being to get through without working at it.

Turning her head slightly, Royan saw the torches move back down the road towards the parked Fiat whose headlights still burned.

But I saw torches moving, less powerful than lighted matches against the first crack of tarnished gold in the eastern sky.

The torch moves the liquid fuel at a consistent rate to the burner, so the flame always burns with the same intensity.

Behind them the torch still burned on the graveled ground as they moved away.