Feet sentence example
Gilbert was soon on his feet again.
His feet were bare.
I had no shoes for my feet, no coat for my back.
She kicked her feet and swung at him with her fists.
He jumped to his feet and looked up at the kind gentleman.Advertisement
He planted his feet firmly and made ready to spring.
Pierre removed his feet from the sofa.
Pete threw his feet over the wagon seat and dropped to the ground.
It was time to stand on her own two feet.
She came to her feet, stretching her body to its maximum height.Advertisement
A little further ahead, they glimpsed a white flash of tail as a deer bounded crossed the trail no more than fifty feet ahead of them.
He took her hands and helped her to her feet, his voice becoming soft and gentle, his gaze mystic.
Bordeaux hit the sand on his feet, a rifle in his hands.
Carefully she moved her feet into a position with better leverage.
Something about her feet hitting the floor in the morning seemed to trigger her stomach.Advertisement
Talon shoved her back into the valley with a snarled threat under his breath, and she hurried out of the trough again, breathing hard by the time she'd clambered twenty feet to the top.
She swung her legs around and firmly planted her feet on the ground before accepting the hand he offered.
He was the first to his feet and dragged her up the beach.
Old shoes will serve a hero longer than they have served his valet--if a hero ever has a valet--bare feet are older than shoes, and he can make them do.
The third time that he thrust out the weapon there was a loud roar and a fall, and suddenly at his feet appeared the form of a great red bear, which was nearly as big as the horse and much stronger and fiercer.Advertisement
With planning and diligence, his business would be on its feet in a few years and she would be working in the pediatric ward at the hospital.
Her bare feet made no noise as she moved across the room toward him, so when she reached his side he glanced up sharply.
In the hall beyond, most of the murmured conversation was taking place as feet tromped around the house.
He had a nightcap on his head and his feet were bare.
Why don't you curl up on the couch and get your bare feet off this cold floor?Advertisement
She dashed on bare feet to intercept him, catching him with an index finger in the back of his belt.
He leaned against the wall a few feet from her, arms crossed and cold blue eyes on her.
He bounced to his feet.
I clung to her, trembling with joy to feel the earth under my feet once more.
Her fall was brutally interrupted by a rock ledge about five feet down.
He tucked his hands in his back pockets and shuffled his feet, the color in his face deepening.
Talon hauled her to her feet, holding her up by one arm when she wobbled.
His eyes were dark and warm like Bianca's, his frame just over six feet and still lanky, though he showed signs of starting to fill out.
The frozen sea beneath her feet was the color of tar, the black clouds above paused mid-swirl around a pop of blue sky in the storm's center.
Dean took his wife's hand and pulled her to her feet and held her until her sobbing subsided.
Infatuated by the carpet, she kept her feet bare.
Several squeals and grunts were instantly heard at his feet, but the Wizard could not discover a single piglet.
The Gargoyles were very small of stature, being less than three feet in height.
As the days wore on, the drifts gradually shrunk, but before they were wholly gone another storm came, so that I scarcely felt the earth under my feet once all winter.
One carried me in his arms so that my feet would not touch the water.
We went down a hundred and twenty feet in an elevator that we might see the violent eddies and whirlpools in the deep gorge below the Falls.
It is thrown across the gorge at a height of two hundred and fifty-eight feet above the water and is supported on each bank by towers of solid rock, which are eight hundred feet apart.
Then she got up and stood very still, as if listening with her feet for Mildred's "thump, thump."
Some I have seen, sixty or a hundred feet long and thirty feet broad....
With his head bent, and his big feet spread apart, he began explaining his reasons for thinking the abbe's plan chimerical.
After five minutes of irksome, constrained conversation, they heard the sound of slippered feet rapidly approaching.
Some of this dust was kneaded by the feet and wheels, while the rest rose and hung like a cloud over the troops, settling in eyes, ears, hair, and nostrils, and worst of all in the lungs of the men and beasts as they moved along that road.
Believing their danger past, they sprang from their ambush and, chirruping something in their shrill little voices and holding up their skirts, their bare little sunburned feet scampered merrily and quickly across the meadow grass.
Like the seventh and last wave that shatters a ship, that last irresistible wave burst from the rear and reached the front ranks, carrying them off their feet and engulfing them all.
Bordeaux pushed to his feet and moved away from her, careful not to make any sudden movements that might be misinterpreted.
He stood and brushed the sand from his clothes and then helped her to her feet.
His feet were cold, and he was hungry.
Her feet felt swollen and fiery.
He lowered the woman to her feet and pushed her behind him.
The woman fought him, and he hauled her to her feet.
He landed on the hard ground with a curse and darted to his feet, chasing her down again.
He twisted it and unleashed a kick that knocked his opponent off his feet and sent the sword flying.
Jule vaulted to his feet and spun before a knife could catch him.
Jule's opponent was standing in her headlights, staring at her, while Jule's body rolled to a stop a few feet away.
Jule had moved and collapsed in a heap a few feet away.
Yully forced herself to her feet and strode through the house to the garage.
She vaulted to her feet, adrenaline flying through her.
She pulled him to his feet.
He wobbled on his feet and shook his head.
While only three feet apart, the space felt immeasurable.
The unidentified male was seven feet tall, dark hair, with eyes that glowed like a vamp's.
Jonny's feet crunched in the snow until he reached the rocky area on the west side of the mountain.
It swiped at her, and she backpedaled, hopping to her feet.
Her first impression was confirmed—the men in the room were UFC material, all well over six feet and solid.
She felt like she stood at the door of a plane fifteen thousand feet in the air getting ready to skydive, only she didn't remember packing a parachute.
Damian rose and pulled Dusty to his feet.
Her balcony was several feet from the edge of his.
Sofia bit back a retort and forced herself to her feet.
Rainy started to his feet as she rose, and she stopped.
Two bolted to his feet at the unfamiliar voice.
Dustin wrenched her to her feet.
He lifted her to her feet.
Two pulled her to her feet.
She hopped to her feet and shoved Jule's arm away, pulling Darian to the ground beside her.
Jule pulled her to her feet and half-carried her out.
He helped Darian to his feet.
Made of material softer than silk, the black dress she wore pooled at the top of her feet.
Just under six feet tall, wide-shouldered and lean, Darkyn's youthful appearance was framed by short, dark hair.
As if sensing she'd noticed, he straightened and moved away, breaking contact to stand a few feet away.
He grabbed Selyn and hauled her a few feet away.
The glow from the flashlight barely illuminated the next few feet of inky darkness as the two youngsters crept along the dank passageway.
They slopped forward, feet sloshing the muddy floor, no longer trying to avoid the water that oozed in rivulets down the narrow passageway, back toward the entrance, now out of sight behind them.
She floundered to a sitting position, then her feet, cringing as she struggled upright, the sting in her wounded knees bringing tears to her eyes.
He guessed her to be nearly six feet tall.
She stomped her feet like a child in a tantrum.
A few feet further, in a dry grotto scooped out from the main walkway, something glinted in Dean's flashlight.
Both jumped to their feet and started around the cluster of boulders where Joseph had parked only to see the tail of Joseph Dawkins' Jeep as it bumped across the blanketing wave of wild flowers.
He could lie and tell them he was a police officer or sheriff and maybe squeeze some tidbit of information about recently released mom Patsy, but surely Fitzgerald would find out and tank his election ambitions, if those aspirations weren't already six feet under.
When they approached the area known as The Drinking Cup, the road narrowed and barely clung to the rock wall, a breath-gulping overhang hundreds of feet above the river.
Dean pointed out the peaks that ringed them; Cirque and Teakettle Mountains, and Potosi Peak, all over 13,000 feet, and Mount Sneffles, standing tall beyond the others, stretching 14,150 feet to the sky.
Finally, after ten minutes of silence passed, they heard the sound of feet running down the slope on the other side of the rise above them.
The escape was less than stealthy, and it was impossible to tell if there was more than one pair of feet.
From this higher level, Dean could see a patch of the road a thousand feet below him.
They'd traveled several hundred yards when Dean saw it, nearly covered by brush and invisible from all but a few feet away.
Darkness moved in quickly now, and he knew he'd soon need help and more light than a simple flashlight to locate a wreck, if in fact a vehicle had plunged to the valley floor, a hundred or more feet below.
Dean could see nothing behind him, only the slope directly beneath his feet.
After the first several feet, the angle of the slope dropped more sharply and he was forced to move to his left to avoid falling.
Her feet skidded out from under her and she spun around, clutching desperately to the limb, twisting into a sitting position and sliding until she was sitting before him.
He planted his feet and dropped the rope in an effort to help her up.
Skidding, half on his feet, half on his seat, he had negotiated a hundred yards further when a glowing flash brightened the sky to the north.
He pulled at Fitzgerald's arm and tugged him a few feet away.
Sure. He was like those guys in the musicals—loveable rogues who roll into town and catch the eye of the local star-struck gal and sweep them off their feet.
Just under seven feet tall and muscular, he wore all black with weapons strapped to various parts of his body.
She stopped and gazed around, spotting a small dirt trail a few feet away.
His scent and heat, the warmth of his magic, the heady sensations of being so close to him … She concentrated on placing her feet and not on his body.
They're pretty light on their feet for being so big.
She pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the death dealer's glare.
She continued in that fashion until she was a good fifteen feet off the ground.
Dropping the last few feet to the ground, she regained her balance.
She was a few feet into the lake, coughing and sputtering.
Water dripped off her into a puddle at her feet.
He stripped off his shirt and flung it then tossed all his weapons in a pile at his feet before seating himself once more.
His eyes fell to a toaster on the dresser with two socks resting beside it, as if waiting for their turn to warm her feet in the morning.
By the trembling of her body, she wasn't going to be on her feet much longer.
Encouraged by the comparison, she threw back the covers and swung her feet to the cold hardwood floor.
Carmen watched with excitement as the foal's feet could be seen inside a thin sac... first one and then the other.
It seemed like a long time, but was probably no longer than fifteen minutes before the mare lunged to her feet, snapping the cord.
He lowered her feet and gently pushed her against the wall beside the door.
She was lifted to her feet and Bill spoke to her in a calm voice.
Immediately he was on his feet, accepting her hand.
Destiny was sitting no more than five feet away now.
Carmen stared at her feet.
Letting her gaze fall to her feet, she shuffled them around.
It was enough to get her out of debt and on her feet in California.
Death was almost seven feet tall, built more solid than a tree trunk with hair and eyes darker than a moonless night.
His gaze went from the sky to her to the body at her feet.
Sometimes, the souls they sought were a few feet from the ones they claimed.
If the radar was working, the soul would be within a few feet of him.
There was nothing at all within a few feet of him, aside from knee-high wild flowers waving happily in the spring breeze.
There was a body at his feet.
At under six feet tall, Logan was still almost half a foot taller than she was.
Sitting down with a book, she propped her feet up on the table and relaxed, calmed by the sounds of the ocean and the warm sun.
She walked down the beach opposite the party, gaze alternating between the ocean at her feet and the full moon climbing into the sky.
He sat a couple of feet from her.
He set the iPad he carried on a totaled machine a few feet away without coming closer.
The forest outside his windows grew dark, and he forced himself to his feet.
Ignoring the acid tone, Gabriel sat in the chair a few feet from him.
Gabe lowered himself into a crouch a few feet away, recalling the last time he'd been on a beach.
Sometimes, you need to acknowledge the path at your feet and just go with it.
A stunning man with a large smile dressed in white stood a few feet away, his brown hair ruffled by the sea breeze.
Gabe climbed to his feet.
She twisted to pull her feet onto her bed and choked back a scream.
His eyes went to the bag at her feet.
I didn't come here to throw myself at your feet for a place to stay.
He stood a few feet away, eyes on the blood.
Daniela hefted her to her feet.
First, can you tell me if your Gabriel is about seven feet tall, with eyes darker than night and no sense of humor?
Toby was too shocked to move, while Katie scrambled to her feet.
Deidre withdrew a few feet down the balcony, struggling with the heat streaking through her blood and scattering her rationale.
Deidre listened to their rustling and distant cries and focused on placing her feet along the path.
I'm an Immortal, and Gabriel has moved on after thousands of years at your feet.
She settled on her belly a couple of feet away, glaring at him.
His gaze settled on the body at his feet.
The half-demon paused a few feet away, and Gabe saw the emotion cross his eyes.
It was hard to ignore him when he was only a few feet away.
She buried her feet in the sand to keep them warm.
Gabriel stood carefully and pulled her to her feet.
The material hugged the natural curves of her body, pooling at the top of her feet.
Deidre shivered and paused a few feet from the deity.
At close to seven feet with eyes and hair blacker than night and a permanent scowl, he was what most expected Death to look like.
Toby's pattering stopped, and she looked up, startled to see a massive man a few feet away.
He was close to seven feet tall, with chiseled features and eyes as black as eternity.
His sweater, jeans, and trench coat were all of high quality with his heavy boots dwarfing her feet as hers did Toby's.
Toby squealed again and bounced to his feet, beginning a whirling dance.
And I won't share how to counter her mutation so you don't end up at Sasha's feet.
He ran until his pounding heart drowned out his pounding feet.
He whirled at the all too familiar voice and sprung to his feet.
Despite her fury and fear, she found his presence oddly calming, like sitting in a spa surrounded by incense with her feet in a salt bath.
Fear lit her insides, and she scrambled to her feet, darting to the door.
She ran, crying out as glass shredded her feet.
Her feet were swollen and shredded, as she expected.
Lankha retrieved a small satchel from its bed and sat cross-legged on the floor beside her feet, withdrawing small vials and balled gauze.
She watched, astonished, as it carefully cleaned her feet without hurting them and then slathered on oil from one vial and wrapped them in gauze.
The halls grew wider, and the stone turned to carpet beneath her sore feet.
The robed man didn't fall to her feet unconsciously as she planned but stared at her in surprise.
The robed man scrambled to his feet and darted for the door.
The churning sea below was littered with jagged rocks that looked small from her perch a hundred feet above them.
He was taller than average, over six and a half feet, built like a rock with wide shoulders and tapered abdomen and hips beneath a jumpsuit similar to those worn by the prisoners.
She knelt beside the fish and unwrapped them with a grimace, cheered to find the section of rope nearly five feet long.
If he brought her more fish tomorrow morning, she'd have rope enough to reach the cliff edge ten feet above.
The ten feet to the top felt like it took hours, though the sun had barely risen when she finished.
Near hyperventilating, she bent over and drew in deep breaths until moonlight revealed the dismembered hand near her feet.
She rested fully against him, shaking too hard to stay on her feet.
The sound of waves rushing the shore and the firm sand beneath his feet indicated its location a few yards from them.
The walls were made of uneven, massive stones, the same kind beneath her feet.
She slid her feet into clogs and left the room, meeting Ully just outside the girls' locker room.
Her heart leapt then dropped to her feet when she realized a man like that didn't call.
Katie trailed her into the stately Georgian mansion and glanced down as the polished wood beneath her feet creaked.
She was barely on her feet and debated whether or not she'd get up to turn off the light or fall asleep right there.
He tried not to think of that sad time, instead blinking away dark memories and focusing on the snow at his feet.
The snow fell straight from the sky without the wind and was soft and fluffy beneath her feet.
Katie pushed herself to her feet, remembering what pain a pissed-off Hell-creature could cause.
He changed forms in midair and dropped the half dozen feet to the ground, smelling Toby.s blood as he landed near it.
Hannah looked again to the host, who pretended not to hear despite being less than two feet away.
Katie hauled Hannah to her feet and pulled her through the doorway, across the bedroom, and into the hall.
She slid her feet into plain sandals provided by the convent along with her plain sweats and T-shirt.
The black fortress and dark skies made her heart drop to her feet.
He moved woodenly to lift the body at her feet and walked away, disappearing into a portal.
Rhyn.s heart dropped to his feet, and he looked at Katie.
He spit blood and pushed himself to his feet.
He lowered his arm enough to see his determined brother, unsteady on his feet with one arm in a sling.
I'm not afraid of him, just because he's twelve feet tall and can bench press me with his toes.
He despised her video game playing and art, instead saying she needed a man capable of keeping her feet on the ground long enough for her to focus on doing something real with her life.
Evelyn was six feet tall and Romas a full head taller than her.
The earth would drop from beneath his feet and the sun pierce his soul.
Comfortable in the plush office chair, she propped her feet up on her desk and continued to sketch until the picture began to look as she wanted it to.
She wondered if she had died, for she seemed able to see the conversation occurring from a dozen feet away, as if she were watching television instead of involved in it.
Romas and Evelyn were already several dozen feet down the flowered path.
She didn't see one woman under six feet tall or any man who didn't tower over six feet.
An unexpected heat jarred her to her core, and the earth beneath her feet shook violently enough to rattle her teeth.
Evelyn smiled tightly from her position a couple of feet away, her attention riveted to the situation before her.
Kiera roused herself, climbed to her feet, and stretched before the prisoner snagged her arm once more and began the quick pace again.
A small, round object twice the size of a dinner plate appeared from the chasm and skimmed over several feet of grass to reach them.
It settled into the grass near the prisoner's feet.
She was about to object when the disc beneath his feet levitated and launched them into the air.
She stopped a few feet from the entrance, debating whether she should just leave, until she heard A'Ran's name.
His tucked waist and hips were clad in dark brown, his feet bare.
A'Ran pulled his opponent to his feet, offered several quiet words, and turned his gaze to her.
Her position at the table shifted as the program grew more complex; she dropped her feet to the ground and leaned forward, taking in the rapidly changing situation.
Her breathing quickened, and she sought to break the entrancing spell before she began mewling like a cat at his feet.
It was a single occupant transport ship whose passenger stood several feet from it and looked familiar from a distance.
A'Ran dropped his feet from the table and rose to face his uncle.
He rose and hauled her to her feet, all but dragging her into the hall.
Someone grabbed her and lifted her to her feet.
Grass tickled her feet, and she glanced down at the swath of green beneath her.
Irritated, she pulled her feet up and crossed her legs beneath her.
Grass tickled her feet as she stayed in place too long.
She glanced down absently at the tickle of grass against her feet.
Kiera climbed to her feet, barely caught herself from hitting the fountain with the next great tremor of the ground, and bolted for the door.
She pulled away from the warriors and dropped beside him, more comfortable on the ground than trying to navigate the shaking earth on her feet.
He shone a light in her face before hauling her to her feet.
This time, she paid no attention to the shale or placing her feet right.
It surged up through his feet to his head, making his whole body tingle as the planet welcomed back its king.
The explosions were coming faster, and he launched to his feet, ignoring the bruises and scrapes along his side.
Her feet were cold on the wooden floor, and she'd caught herself looking down many times to see if she made grass grow here, too.
She may have been a duty for him, but he'd been so much more … and Anshan… Her gaze went to her cold feet again.
She had changed to the white dress, the one she'd worn to dinner that night and the hem touched the tops of her bare feet, which pointed downward.
With the town's elevation near eight thousand feet, plenty of snow was to be expected.
She held the shoes next to her feet.
Donnie popped to his feet and brushed a kiss on his mother's cheek and resumed his work.
The white dress scarcely touched the tops of her bare feet and fitted her perfectly.
She started to rise but Fred O'Connor rose to his feet.
Any activity ten thousand feet in the sky quickly separated the properly trained from the panting wannabes.
Now the jeep road was closed, as it had been since early fall and would remain so until June, locked in its privacy by several feet of accumulated snow.
The two men first boarded chair lift number ten and ten and a half minutes later were eighteen hundred feet higher than Fred and Donnie, at nearly eleven thousand feet elevation.
You'll also need rope, not cut from your outside clothes line, but a couple of lengths of one-hundred and fifty feet each of 9 or 10mm line.
The chasm appeared to Dean to be a hundred feet or more to the river below.
He was in his stocking feet, snowy boots left by the back door after his day at the library and museum.
Amid a banging door and stomping feet, Gladys Turnbull entered the kitchen.
She was but a few feet beyond where he stood.
Ryland raised his feet for Cynthia to clean beneath him and said, "Edith's gone back to her husband."
Cynthia turned on the balls of her feet, still holding the immense knife, waist-high, pointed directly at him.
Go in the parlor and pour yourself a glass of sherry and put your feet up.
He went on to add judiciously that elevation changed Mother Nature's rules about the weather every few hundred feet.
By now, more than two feet was packed against the door, though the exact depth was difficult to determine in the wind-driven drifts.
Dean stomped his feet and entered his home, for the first time absent his wife.
Weller put his feet up on the coffee table and took a long swallow.
We've got about three feet of snow out there that needs shoveling.
A large outcropping of rock made it impossible for a climber more than just a few feet below the edge, to see anyone above him.
Besides, the last fifty feet is still straight down.
Yes, I despised the son of a bitch, especially after he grabbed my wife's breast ten feet away from me.
Weller had tromped through several feet of snow and was white to his thighs.
Dean nodded his head, shuffled his feet, but said nothing.
Thursday's storm had roared into town with uncommon severity, bringing with it not only more than two feet of fresh snow, but a wind that set the white stuff a-dancing and swirling about the town, like a wild rhumba or some native fertility rite.
But I glance up and this little shit, who looked to be about twelve, is standing on a rock about fifty feet away, laughing his ass off.
And, if she had cut the line earlier, it would have either been noticed by Shipton or he would have fallen the entire distance of more than a hundred feet from the edge to his certain death.
A tiny red haired woman, under five feet, Dean guessed, emerged from the vehicle that bore Colorado license plates.
Sheet-covered, her remains lay in Dean's office, only feet from where she had lain naked against him so short a time before.
All he knew now was his bare feet were cold, standing on the hard wood floor at the perimeter of the carpet in the death room.
My feet are cold.
If he thinks I'm going put those stupid things on my feet and swing down there like some mountain goat, he's crazier than I am for coming out here in the first place.
It was as if every fear he'd ever encountered paled before the idea of descending even a few feet closer to the edge that yawned before him.
He clamped the metal spikes to his feet.
He leaned back over certain death, a hundred bouncing, smashing, flying feet below.
In his mind's eye Dean could picture climbers rappelling downward in great lunges, covering many feet in long swings, reaching the bottom in but a few mad leaps into space.
Abruptly the scratching sound of the crampons beneath his feet told him he'd reached the first mounds of solid ice.
Jerome Shipton was scarcely a dozen feet lower, off to his left.
At six feet, two inches tall, with a slim, athletic build, he moved with the grace of a dancer.
He jumped to his feet, pulling her up.
Sarah tucked her feet beneath her.
He lifted up a bit to see her feet and found the answer.
I so hope you will sweep me off my feet and take me away from my sad, lonely life straight to fairy-tale land.
He looked down at her feet, and after noting she wore sneakers said, "You up for a little hike first?"
Sarah was asking Elisabeth about her art when she stopped mid-sentence, spotting her feet.
My feet are killing me.
Jackson sat away from her and motioned with his hands to put her feet up.
After making sure she was asleep, he carefully slid out from under her feet and headed to the studio.
She held him until he quieted, helped him to his feet and then to the sofa.
She opened the back door and in bounded a large Borzoi who rushed to Elisabeth and stood on his hind feet, resting his front legs on her shoulders, and then licked her face.
I have nightmares of waking and finding you dead at my feet, and now you are trying to make them real.
Six inch high strappy heels adorned her feet.
Jackson opened the door; the wolf lumbered in and collapsed at his feet.
They were simply very tall – all well over six feet.
The snow crunched under their feet and the icy carried Katie's words back in a cloud of steam.
Each cleansing lick from the doe nearly knocked them off their feet, but they staggered close to her for more nourishment.
Carmen stood and backed away as the doe lurched to her feet and went into another contraction.
As soon as Brutus saw them, he lunged to his feet and growled at Alex.
You know how I feel and I'll be darned if I'm going to grovel at your feet.
She threw the covers back and rolled out of bed, gasping when her bare feet hit the cold floor.
He rolled over, springing to his feet and lunged at Alex.
They seemed unconcerned that their feet were buried in snow.
Carmen hung her coat and tugged the boots off her wet feet.
She plopped down in the chair and pulled her socks off, holding her feet up to the stove.
His huge feet splashed through the wet snow, slinging it at the goats.
She staggered to her feet again and hobbled to a large rock.
She darted for the barn, the kid's feet dangling like limp ropes.
The last thing she remembered was sitting down on the bed to tug her wet jeans off her bare feet.
Carmen dropped into the chair beside the stove and pulled some heavy socks over her cold feet.
Finally he released her, and when her feet touched the floor again, she took a deep breath.
She snatched the piece of grass from her mouth and scrambled to her feet, feeling the blood burning her neck and cheeks.
She squealed and he lowered her feet to the ground, gently pulling her close.
Alex was on his feet instantly, watching Josh intently.
Alex reached one hand down to help Carmen to her feet.
Carmen was on her feet again, and jumped between them.
She struggled to rise and Alex helped her to her feet.
She staggered to her feet and tried a voice still scratchy.
It shot off the counter, hitting the block wall and bouncing off to roll across the floor and stop at Carmen's feet.
Ignoring his whines and growls, she grabbed his feet and rolled him over so that he was lying on the sack.
The sack and dog moved about two feet.
He backed up a few feet and stopped, lowering his head and growling in a way that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.
She lunged frantically again, dragging Brutus nearly four feet this time.
He fell back a few feet and snarled at her.
No brush grew within three feet of the fence.
Surprise was replaced by anger and concern as he vaulted to his feet, intent on ensuring his men were safe.
Whoever kept her from falling swept her off her feet and placed her again on the hospital bed.
Lana sat as soon as he released her and started to her feet again, only to feel a hand planted in her chest that pushed her onto her back.
She had a laser gun, even if she couldn't hit a target two feet in front of her.
She was hauled to her feet and she blinked, struggling to keep the pain at bay.
They were all over six feet, all engineered for power, agility, and endurance.
She stared at his chest, not looking up until he stopped a couple feet from her.
She bounced to her feet and searched the dresser she'd already searched earlier.
The helicopter lifted away before Brady had two feet in its belly, and the soldier holding her strapped her securely into a seat in the rear while the two of them stood with nonchalance in the center.
They were going into the black water, hundreds of feet beneath them.
The helo teetered, throwing Brady off his feet.
Finally, it caught, and she kicked her feet as it pulled her towards the surface.
Mrs. Watson appeared thoughtful before she pushed herself to her feet and hobbled to the couch.
You'll be on your feet in no time.
He shifted and lowered himself feet first into the hole.
Lana was knocked off her feet.
Rhyn ignored Hannah's approach, and Toby shuffled his feet.
She pushed herself up, reaching into a pocket for a food and water cube. Gabriel took her arm and pulled her to her feet. She nearly choked on the cubes and swallowed them whole, struggling to keep up with the death-dealer as he darted into the forest.