Pride, Prose, and Princes: Part Four A long white head scarf fluttered past us in the dusty wind. In pursuit of it was a lanky blue Kacheek, who was quite red in the face. "He'll never catch up with it. Let's help!"
The Golden Globes of Light: Part Four "But this is all impossible," Ashiel snorted. "Where we come from, we are weaklings. We certainly can't use that kind of magic, even if we had it at our disposal..."