“The soldier’s path is worn smooth by the tread of many feet—all in one direction, none returning.”
—Oracle en-Vec

These spirits of the air are winsome and wild and cannot be truly contained. Only marginally intelligent, they often substitute whimsy for strategy, delighting in mischief and mayhem.

If only every message were as perfect as its bearer.

Rainclouds don’t last long in Shiv, but that doesn’t stop the lightning.

Sharpen your ears
—Elvish expression meaning “grow wiser”

“I always charge a little extra to take on a pegasus. They fly like eagles, kick like mules, and hide like hermits.”
—Tahli en-Dal, bounty hunter

Little dreamt could seem so cruel
As waiting for the wings outspread,
The jagged teeth, the burning eyes,
And dagger-claws that clench to nerves.

“Don’t look at it! Maybe it’ll go away!”
—Ib Halfheart, goblin tactician

“I think I used up all my good luck and all my bad luck in the same fall.”
—Gerrard of the Weatherlight

Its windpipe is only the first to amplify its maddening laughter.

Radiant’s eyes flashed. “Go, then,” the angel spat at Serra, “and leave this world to those who truly care.”

They are Phyrexia’s couriers; the messages they carry are inscribed on their slick hides.

“… But I’m not tired!”

Few of Rath’s rivers follow a steady course, so many new channels are carved for them.

“I implore you not to forget the horrors of the past. You would have us start the Brothers’ War anew!”
—Sorine Relicbane, Soldevi heretic