The great cat sank into a crouch, and Balthus numbly remembered tales of its appalling ferocity: of how it would spring upon an elephant and drive its sword-like fangs so deeply into the titan's skull that they could never be withdrawn, but would keep it nailed to its victim, to die by starvation.

The bear ate more quietly as the cat sank down onto the floor of the cage to lick his front paws and wash his ears.

The cat sank to its stomach and blinked back at them, comfortably.

Her huge cat had sunk slowly to the floor and placed his head on his paws, and she went and sat with him, gathering her cloak around her.

The great cat sank to its haunches, then onto its belly, head resting on its front paws, as the three Deryni drew ahead of their respective troops, perhaps twenty yards.

A silver tear splashed against the soft fur, then she held out her hands and the cat sank into the earth.

The cat made a deep, ululating yowl and sank its teeth into the other mother's cheek.

Or when the cat, who had somehow crawled back under the rugs, sunk its claws through her pants leg to keep from being thrown about.

Except for the rain and the purring, it is quiet, until the cat sinks its razor teeth into the stroking hand and the guest shrieks and the cat jumps and the observant blue eyes explode.

When Bili galloped around the turn, Mahvros had to make a quick, jarring jump, lest he trample Steelclaws and the writhing, black-bearded man into whose shoulder the cat had sunk his long fangs.