Zephyrean

It was her first kite, and he was her first kiss. Both were underneath the lone tree set on the zephyrean plain. She forgot all about her kite as the breeze blew it up, up, up into the branches.

Yare

"This skiff will have to do. The Whiskey Wagon is a lot more yare, but it's ported miles away. I figure if we hop on this little craft now, we just might be able to catch up to Dr. Melphus before he reaches the island.

Varia

We shoveled the remainder of the debris into the chest. Broken dishes, ripped poster remnants, shattered glass chunks, and such varia slid out of our tools and into the capsule.

Tensile

Sean John held the artifact in his hands. It was an unusual material: some strange type of fabric from the native plants. It was tensile. He could stretch it out a bit and extend the detailed patterns.

Satrap

Yes, Sean John may have been victorious against Dr. Melphius, but that does not signal the end of the struggle. The bumbling doctor is nothing more than a satrap put in place by the true controlling powers out there. He was merely a subordinate who was exalted to a transient leadership position as a distraction for Sean John... But what kind of mischief was in the works while Sean John was distracted...?

Recant

They finally did it. They berated me and assailed me. Verbal abuse and psychological torture, and they finally got their way .giving in to their demands, I now recant my statement. Now the public things I am admitting being wrong about this before.

Paraph

Davis peered more closely at the document. It was Sean John's handwriting, there was no doubt about that. Of more interest was the signature at the end of the page. Davis palmed his magnifying glass. Hovered over the final letter of the signature,the swoosh on the cursive 'n'. Hidden in the paraph, that minute flourish of ink, was just the message Davis was looking for.

Obnubilate

Dr. Pantigal greedily eyed his ship's sensor display. The ocean floor was quickly being mapped by his scanning device, and soon his plan of chaos would be ready. The contours solidified, one rocky alcove at a time.

He continued to watch the progress display when something changed. The sensor lost sight of the deep surface. Cursing, Dr Pantigal walked over to the side of the boat to see the waters beneath. Sure enough, it appeared that Sean John had sent a school of sharks to hover below the ship and obnubilate the waters.

Nuque

The air grew thicker. Their passion increased. His hands slowly walked up her back, pressing firmly. Clasping his knuckles together behind her nuque, he pulled her closer.

Mainour

They say they found the man hiding in the bushes, with the mainour laying on the ground a few feet away. He denies stealing the items, and says he was simply taking a nap in the shrubs, claiming to have no knowledge about the discarded stolen goods nearby.

Lollapalooza

Tables were broken into splinters. Chairs strewn about. All kinds of debris littered each room. Stains marked the walls. Some kind of lollapalooza happened here party night.

Kinchin

We gave the leftovers to the little ones with nowhere to go for breakfast - the sad little kinchins living on the streets.

Jacobin

Sean John deployed his most aurally gifted sharks as information gatherers and spies. The jacobins were secretly plotting their next coup attempt on the far end of the island, and no man could sneak through the dense jungle unnoticed.

Gastronomy

Day in, day out,his training continued. Steaming, delicious concoctions. All kinds of sauces. More meat preparation methods than types of cheese from France. And cheese was on his docket too. The bootcamp in gastronomy was intense, thorough,and isolating. It prepared Steve for his life duty - the position in the kitchen. But it didn't prepare him for when she walked through the door.

Irrefrangible

Sean John continued to dictate. "The one irrefrangible rule of shark taming - the advice you must follow above all else - never, never, never approach a shark from behind. You will never gain its respect.

hent

I hent the box with a very tight grip - if the box were to drop, my life would be over.

Atavistic

Sprinting through the woods, leaves blurring by, branches brushing by my face, I pursued. Something deep within myself took over, and I chased my prey. Some atavistic sense bubbled to the top, and I was on the hunt.