Rascant
Another Sunday promenade in spite of the heat, and Lill's collar rubbed rascant lines in the skin behind her ears.

Hopplag
By the frost-stained fountain, amid the clatter of the icicle chimes, she heard him before she saw him, and he was saying, "Nevermind what he charges, he tensioned up the hopplag and the gears haven't slipped since." He had a striped coat, green-tinted googles, and an asymmetrical grin.

Thurtle
She turned to see him astride a blue metal ornithoptopede, chatting with another rider. He tipped his hat as she passed and she resolved to find some pretext for conversation on her next circuit of the slippery tile-walk. But he and his friend were gone by the time she returned. That thurtling in the treetops might have been them.

Stoce
She got herself a cup of herb-flecked ice so she could loiter and watch. She chipped away with the tiny wooden spoon the vendor had given her. It was stoce. She hated stoce. She ate the whole thing, but he didn't come back.

Ullivaria
She walked home the long way, and found grim amusement in the most neglected corner of the sculpture garden, where the statues of a quartet of primly-posed town fathers were draped with an exuberance of flowering ullivaria. She thought she saw cracks in the stone under the tendrils' coils.

Fetzbalk
Back home, she cut silhouettes out of cheap fetzbalk, sigils that would represent the day's events when she pasted them in her diary.

Widensh
When the light grew too dim for the fine cutting, she laid the book aside. Out the window, the sky above the courtyard was as widensh as she felt.