“PINE” in italiano

Branches of thin pine whipped against him as he barreled through the forest, dodging the narrow trees, leaping over rocks and fallen tree trunks, striving to gain some distance between himself and his pursuers.

Male, varied, and so many—Hard, cold ground lay beneath her bare legs, pine needles poking through the thin material of her nightgown.

Behind her, braced against the pine tree, Emerie held on just as tightly.

It had a halfmoon shaped pine desk in one corner, and a rubber plant in a bronze pot opposite.

He was at home in the forest and spent nearly every day moving through the citadel of oak and pine.

Rew made his way back through the scrub pine forest, moving slowly and looking for signs of the Dark Kind, but he found none other than those he’d killed.

Rew circled them, staying well back, peering between the pine boughs and bushes that provided him cover.

Cursing, Nesta hurried down the tree, bark and pine needles sticking to her sap-crusted hands.

She inhaled the pine and distant promise of snow.

The trees were thick, mostly pine, but the green of the pine was speckled with the colors of autumn as oak and elm broke through the canopy.

A few small stone houses rose to the right, and beyond them stood some new residences made of fresh pine.