Text Leveling System

Fablehaven: Secret of the Dragon Sanctuary

RDQ:	3637	Max Word/Sent	60	Total Words	4487		Diff Words	1502
Lex	1110	Ave Word/.Sent	12	Hi Freq occurs	3100	69.1%	Hi freq	530	35.3%
AR	9.0	Long Sentences	16.9	Low Freq occurs	522	11.6%	Low freq	424	28.2%

Journal
Kendra Sorenson briskly scraped the head of a wooden match against the rough strip on the side of a rectangular matchbox. Cupping her hand to shield the new flame, she held the burning match against the blackened wick of a candle stub. Once the flame spread to the wick, she shook out the match, thin strands of smoke winding upward.
Seated at the desk in her bedroom, considering the remains of the match, Kendra was struck by how quickly the fire had consumed the wood, leaving the top third fragile and charred, the substance transformed into an unrecognizable state. She contemplated the plague at Fablehaven that had swiftly turned many of the inhabitants of the magical preserve from beings of light into creatures of darkness. She and her family and friends had managed to reverse the
plague before it destroyed the preserve, but their efforts had cost the life of Lena the naiad.
Snapping out of her reverie, Kendra set the spent match off to one side, slid three keys into a locked journal, opened the book, and began hurriedly leafing through the pages. This was her last umite candle-she could not afford to waste any of the special illumination that made the words on the pages visible.
She had brought the Journal of Secrets home from Fablehaven. It had once belonged to Patton Burgess, a former Fablehaven caretaker whom Kendra had unexpectedly met when he had traveled forward through time at the end of the previous summer. Written in a secret fairy language, the words inside were further disguised by being inscribed in umite wax. Only under the light of an umite wax candle would the characters glow into view, and only by virtue of her status as fairykind could Kendra decipher them.
Reading and speaking fairy languages were only some of the abilities granted to Kendra after hundreds of giant fairies had mobbed her with kisses. She could see in the dark. Certain magical mind tricks failed to affect her, allowing her to penetrate the illusions that concealed most magical creatures from mortal eyes. And fairies had to follow any command she issued.
Kendra checked over her shoulder, listening for a moment. The house was quiet. Mom and Dad had taken to jogging at the rec center on weekday evenings, hoping to make it a habit before the New Year. She doubted the resolution would survive more than a couple of weeks, but for
now it provided her an opportunity to peruse the journal unsupervised. Her parents were blind to the magical world she and her brother had discovered. As a consequence, when they had caught her reading a book full of strange symbols by candlelight, they thought she was getting involved with some bizarre cult. There was no way to explain that the book contained the secrets of a former Fablehaven caretaker. Not wanting her parents to confiscate the journal, Kendra pretended to have returned it to the library and had started reading it only when she could be sure of prolonged privacy.
Because the presence of her parents reduced her reading time, and because she had a limited supply of candles, Kendra had not yet read every word from cover to cover, although she had skimmed the entire volume. The voice in the journal was familiar-she had read many entries in some of Patton's less secretive journals at Fablehaven. While browsing the journal of Secrets, Kendra had found where Patton described at length the story of how Ephira had become a spectral menace, omitting none of the dismal details, along with passages where he expressed his innermost fears about his relationship with Lena. Kendra had also learned about a passageway to a grotto beneath the old manor, various stashes of treasure and weapons concealed around Fablehaven, and a pool at the base of a small waterfall where an intrepid fortune hunter could catch a leprechaun. She found information about a secret chamber at the end of the Hall of Dread in the Fablehaven dungeon, along with the passwords and procedures needed to gain
entry. She read about journeys abroad to India and Siberia and Madagascar. She absorbed information about various preserves at the far corners of the globe. She scanned theories regarding possible threats and villains, including many alleged plots by the Society of the Evening Star.
Tonight, with the umite candle burning low, she turned to her favorite entry in the journal and read Patton's familiar handwriting:
Having returned scant hours ago from a singular adventure, I now find myself unable to suppress the urge to impart my thoughts. I have seldom considered whom I intend to read the covert information compiled in this record. Upon the occasions when I have paid heed to the matter, I have vaguely concluded that I was jotting these notations for myself. But I am now aware that these words will reach an audience, and that her name is Kendra Sorenson.
Kendra, I find this realization both thrilling and foreboding. You face challenging times. Some of the knowledge I possess could aid you. Regrettably, much of that same knowledge could usher you into unspeakable danger. I keep staging vigorous internal debates in the attempt to discern what information will grant you an advantage over your enemies and what information might further imperil your situation. Much of what I know has the potential to cause more harm than good.
Your enemies among the Society of the Evening Star will balk at nothing to obtain the five artifacts that together can open Zzyzx, the great demon prison. At the time I left you, to our knowledge, they had acquired only one artifact, while your able
grandfather retained another. I have information about two of the artifacts that you lack, and could probably acquire more knowledge with some effort. And yet I hesitate to share. If you or others try to pursue or guard the artifacts, you might inadvertently lead our enemies to them. Or you could be harmed in the attempt to retrieve them. Conversely, if the Sphinx is in avid pursuit of the artifacts, I am inclined to believe that he will eventually succeed. Under certain circumstances, it would benefit our cause for you to have my knowledge in order to keep the artifacts out of his grasp.
Therefore, Kendra, I have elected to rely on your judgment. I will not include the specifics in this journal, for who could resist such temptingly convenient access, regardless of that person's integrity? But in the hidden chamber beyond the Hall of Dread I will disguise further details regarding the hiding places of two of the artifacts. Unearth that information only if you find it becomes absolutely necessary. Otherwise, do not even mention that such knowledge exists. Use discretion and patience and courage. My hope is that the information will lie dormant for your whole lifetime. If not, information about the location of the hidden chamber awaits elsewhere in this journal. Go to the chamber and use a mirror to find the message on the ceiling.
Kendra, I wish I could be there to help you. Your loved ones are strong and capable. Put your trust where it belongs and make smart decisions. Keep that brother of yours in line. I am grateful to have such an exemplary niece.
Drumming her fingers on the desk, Kendra blew out the candle. Enough of the waxy lump remained to light it again,
but the flame would not last long. Grandpa probably had more umite candles at Fablehaven by now, but getting them would be a hassle. She leaned back in her chair, pinching her lower lip. Between school and her volunteer day-care job, she had hardly found time to give the matter the contemplation it deserved.
She had not yet shared the message from Patton with anyone. He had trusted her judgment, and she was in no hurry to betray that trust. Patton was right that once the information about the location of the artifacts got out, people would want to pursue them. And he was also right that the Sphinx would be watching for a chance to exploit any such attempt. Unless information about the hidden artifacts became essential, she would let it be.
Throughout that fall season, Kendra had kept in touch with her grandparents. They did not talk openly about secrets on the phone, but they had found ways to pass needed information without getting too specific. Ever since the Sphinx had been revealed as the leader of the Society of the Evening Star, all activity by the Society had seemed to cease. But they all knew that the Sphinx was out there, watching and plotting, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.
Two members of the Knights of the Dawn kept Kendra and Seth under constant surveillance and smuggled them information when necessary. So far there had been no alarming incidents. Although the individuals assigned to protect Kendra and Seth rotated, at least one of their bodyguards was always a trusted friend like Warren, Tanu, or Coulter.
For the past four days, Warren had been watching them, along with a supposedly trustworthy girl named Elise. Kendra sighed. After all the subterfuge during the past couple of years, she wondered if she would ever fully trust anyone again. Perhaps that was another reason she kept f Patton's message to herself.
Something rustled faintly behind her. She turned to see that a folded sheet of paper had been slipped under her door. She crossed to the doorway, picked up the white piece of paper, unfolded it, and scanned the typed list. The more she read, the narrower her eyes squinted. She stalked out of her room, down the hall, and stopped in Seth's open doorway.
"Do you honestly expect to get a hang glider for Christmas?" Kendra asked her younger brother.
Seth glanced up from the desk where he had been doodling lizards on his math homework. "I certainly won't if I don't ask."
Kendra held up the list. "Who else got this?"
"Mom and Dad, of course. Plus I e-mailed copies to all of our relatives, even some distant ones I tracked down online. And I mailed a copy to Santa, just to cover all of my bases."
Crossing the room to stand beside her brother, Kendra wiggled the page in front of him. "You've never made crazy requests like these before. A set of custom golf clubs? A hot tub? A bullet bike?"
Seth snatched the list from Kendra. "You're only naming the big-ticket items. If you can't afford to get me a
massage chair, you could get me a kite, a video game, or a movie. You'll find ideas on my wish list for any budget." Kendra folded her arms. "You're up to no good."
Seth stared at her with the wide-eyed, mildly offended expression he typically used when hiding something. "Limiting what I get for Christmas is one thing. Limiting what I ask for is another. Who are you, the Grinch?"
"You normally use a strategic approach to Christmas, asking for a few presents you really want-and it usually works. You've never campaigned for anything that costs more than a bike or a video game system. You keep your wish list realistic. Why the change?"
"You're overanalyzing, Professor," Seth sighed, handing back the list. "I just figured it couldn't hurt to aim high this year."
"Why send the list to relatives so distant they don't even know you?"
"One of them might be a lonely billionaire, who knows? I have a hunch that this could be my lucky year."
Kendra regarded her brother. Even since the summer, he looked less like a kid. He kept getting taller, all gangly arms and legs, and his face looked slimmer, his chin more defined. They had not spent much quality time together over the fall. He had his own friends, and she was busy getting accustomed to high school. Now the holiday break loomed less than a week away.
"Don't do anything stupid," Kendra warned.
"Thanks for the brilliant advice," he said. "Do you mind if I quote you in my diary?"
"Are you keeping a journal?"
"I'll have to start if you keep dispensing such precious pearls of wisdom."
"I have the perfect first entry," Kendra suggested, glaring. "Dear diary, today I bought myself fancy Christmas presents with gold I stole from Fablehaven. I tried to pretend the gifts came from distant, billionaire relatives, but nobody was fooled, and the Knights of the Dawn have hunted me down and locked me in a grimy dungeon."
Seth's mouth opened and closed soundlessly as he commenced and then abandoned several possible responses. After clearing his throat, he finally managed, "You can't prove that."
"How did you sneak out gold?" Kendra exclaimed. "I thought Grandpa confiscated the treasure you and the satyrs took from the nipsies."
"We're not having this conversation," Seth insisted. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You must have had multiple stashes, and Grandpa didn't find them all. But how are you converting gold and jewels into cash? A pawn shop?"
"This is nonsense," Seth maintained. "Sounds to me like you're the one with the criminal mind."
"You have your guard up now, but I saw through it a minute ago. That gold wasn't Newel's or Doren's to give you! After all that happened last summer, how did you walk out the front door with stolen treasure in your pockets? How shameless are you?"
Seth sighed in defeat. "Grandpa and Grandma weren't using it."
"Right, Seth, because they're the caretakers of Fablehaven. They're trying to protect the creatures and items hidden there. You might as well steal from a museum!"
"Kind of like you taking the rain stick from Lost Mesa? Or Warren keeping the sword he found there?"
Kendra flushed. "Technically, Painted Mesa wasn't part of the Lost Mesa preserve. Plus, I'm not hawking the rain staff to buy a WaveRunner! And Warren isn't trying to trade the sword for a snowmobile! Part of why we have those items is in order to protect them, not to sell them for a fraction of their value!"
"Settle down, I still have all of the gold."
"Maybe you should give it to me for safekeeping."
"Not likely," Seth snorted. He eyed her reluctantly. "But I'll return the treasure to Grandpa the next time we go back."
Kendra relaxed. "I can live with that."
"I don't have much choice since I live with the world's biggest tattler. What if I pay you off? Would you keep quiet? I could buy you some awesome Christmas presents."
"I'm not in the market for a hang glider."
"It could be anything," Seth offered. "Dresses, jewelry, a pony-whatever stupid girly junk you want!"
"The main thing I want this year is for my little brother to develop some integrity so I can stop baby-sitting him." "I could always use some of the gold to hire some thugs
to kidnap you and hold you captive until after the holidays," Seth considered.
"Good luck with that," Kendra said, crumpling the typed list and tossing it at the wastebasket beside the desk. The irregular ball of paper bounced off the lip of the wastebasket and landed softly on the floor.
Seth leaned down from his chair, snatched up the crumpled paper, and dropped it into the trash. "Nice aim." "Nice list." Kendra strode into the hall and returned to her room. The scent of candle smoke still lingered so she opened the window, admitting a cold draft. She waved her hands to disperse the smell, then shut the window and flopped down on her bed.
Even far from Fablehaven, at their own house, with constant supervision from hidden bodyguards, Seth was still finding ways to cause unnecessary trouble! Part of her wished she could share the message from Patton with her brother. These days, he was the only person she could talk to about this type of problem. But she would not dare allow him access to the information in the Journal of Secrets. He would undoubtedly find a way to put that knowledge to bad use.
Her secrecy about the journal had caused some friction between them. When they discussed the subject, he knew by her vague answers that she was withholding information. But unable to translate the arcane writing himself, there was nothing he could do about her reluctance to share.
Rolling over onto her stomach, Kendra slid a hand under her mattress and pulled out five envelopes bound
together by a rubber band. There was no need to read the letters from Gavin-she had the content memorized. But she enjoyed holding them.
He had promised that he would try to take a turn as one of her guards, but he had yet to show up. As a dragon tamer, he had unusual skills that had recently been required in some distant parts of the world. At least he had sent letters, delivered by bodyguards. In the notes, he shared details about his dealings with dragons: cutting skin tumors out of the slimy hide of a long, slender dragon; studying a rare dragon that lived underwater and used dense clouds of ink to confuse her prey; rescuing a team of magical plant experts from a small but ferocious dragon that spun webs like a spider.
Interesting as the dragons were, Kendra had to admit that her favorite parts of the letters were any mention of him missing her or looking forward to seeing her again. When she wrote him back, she made it clear that she was looking forward to seeing him as well, hopefully without sounding too overanxious. Closing her eyes, she pictured him. Was he getting better-looking in her memories?
Content to have held the letters for a moment, she slipped them back under her mattress. She had done her best to keep Seth from noticing the correspondence. He already loved to tease her about having a crush on Gavin. Imagine if her brother found evidence that it was sort of true!
From downstairs came the rumble of the automatic garage door opening. Her parents were home. Kendra sprang from her bed and snatched the journal and the candle stub
from her desk, placing them on a high shelf in her closet and moving folded sweaters in front of them. She unzipped her backpack and put a notebook and a pair of textbooks on her desk, although her homework was already finished.
Kendra took a deep breath. She only had to make it through two more days of school, and then winter break would allow her to relax and think through some of the issues that had been troubling her. She left her room and walked to the stairs, trying to compose her face into a casual expression with which to greet her parents.
Stingbulb
Crunchy, dirt-flecked snow covered the ground outside of Wilson High School as Kendra proceeded down the steps toward the curb. Jagged, crusty mounds flanked the street and irregular piles bordered the sidewalk. Although the walkway looked clear, Kendra stepped carefully for fear of ice patches. A hazy ceiling of light gray clouds added monotonous shade to the cold day.

Idly swinging her backpack, Kendra peeked at the spots where her bodyguards normally loitered and noticed Elise leaning against a parked car across the street, penciling a word into a crossword puzzle. The woman did not make eye contact, but Kendra knew she was slyly watching. Elise appeared to be in her thirties-thin, medium height, with
ruler-straight bangs. Kendra wondered if Warren thought she was pretty.
As Kendra turned left at the sidewalk that paralleled the street, she continued to survey the area. Most of the time she could spot Warren, but she did not try hard today, since he was probably off guarding Seth.
At the crosswalk, Kendra hustled to the other side of the street and then walked past the library to the huge rec center. The boxy brick structure housed a swimming pool, an exercise room, a basketball court, three racquetball courts, locker rooms, and a spacious day care. Kendra volunteered at the day care every day after school until five. It was an easy job, and there were even occasional windows of time when she could get some homework done.
The closest elementary school got out before the high school, so when Kendra entered the day-care area, kids were already coloring, building with blocks, squabbling over toys, and running around. Some of the kids near the door greeted her as "Miss Sorenson." None of them knew her as Kendra. Rex Tanner stood across the room coaching a young freckled boy as he sprinkled fish food into the aquarium. An olive-skinned, middle-aged man from Brooklyn, Rex ran the day care and maintained a relaxed atmosphere. He had a natural, easy way with the kids. Nothing ever seemed to fluster him.
When the boy finished with the fish, Rex noticed Kendra and waved her over, his smile wider than usual. His curly hair, thick mustache, and lightly tinted glasses meant he always looked like he was wearing a corny disguise. When
Kendra got close, she could smell that, as usual, he had gone heavy on the Old Spice.
"Hey, Rex," she said.
"Kendra, good to see you, good to see you." Whether addressing kids or adults, Rex normally spoke like he was hosting a show for young children. He clapped his hands, rubbing them together. "We're going to explore the five senses today. I came up with a very exciting exercise. Come see what you think."
She followed him to the counter at the back of the room where five square cardboard boxes stood in a row. Each box had a hole cut in the side.
"Am I supposed to feel what's inside?" Kendra asked. "Bingo," Rex said. "Try to guess what you're touching. Go left to right."
Kendra reached into the first box, her fingers sliding off the surfaces of small, greasy spheres. "Slimy eyeballs?" she guessed.
"Peeled grapes," Rex revealed. "Try the next one." Kendra reached inside the second box. "Intestines?" "Noodles."
The third box contained rubber erasers of various sizes, which she guessed correctly. The fourth felt empty at first, then she found something that felt like a potato. She was opening her mouth to guess when she felt a stabbing pain in her thumb. Yelping, Kendra withdrew her hand. "What was that?" she cried.
"You okay?" Rex asked.
"Let me guess, cactus?" Kendra sucked the pad of her thumb, tasting blood.
"Close. A cactus fig. Edible fruit. I could have sworn I'd removed all the sharp spines!"
Kendra shook her hand. "Missed one."
Rex blinked, looking off balance. "Let me get you a Band-Aid."
Kendra checked her thumb. "No, it's just a little prick." "Maybe we'd better limit the exercise to four boxes," Rex decided.
"Probably. What's in the last one? Rusty razors?" "Damp sponges."
"Did you use any of them to wipe up broken glass?" Rex chuckled. "They should be safe." He picked up the box with the cactus fig inside. "I'll stow this back in my office."
"Good idea," Kendra said.
As Rex took the box away, Ronda came over. The over weight mother of three worked part-time at the day care, mostly during the afternoon shift. "You all right?" she asked.
"Rex had me feeling cactus fruit. Stuck me pretty good. I'm fine, though."
Ronda shook her head. "For such a nice guy, he can be a real knucklehead."
"It's no big deal. I'm just glad the victim wasn't a five year-old."
The rest of the afternoon went smoothly. Kendra had no urgent homework, so she was able to relax and enjoy the kids. She ran a game of musical chairs and a couple of rounds
of Simon Says. Rex read a story, Ronda played her ukulele for singing time, and the touch exercise went over big. Soon the clock over the sink read 4:55 and Kendra began gathering her things.
She was shouldering her backpack when Rex came up behind her. "We have a problem, Kendra."
Kendra turned, her eyes darting around the room, searching for what had broken or who was injured. "What is it?"
"I've got an irate parent on the phone in my office," Rex apologized. "I need you for a minute."
"Sure," Kendra said, trying to guess what might have provoked the call. Had she treated any of the kids unfairly in recent days? No incidents came to mind. Perplexed, she followed Rex into his office. He shut the door and pulled the blinds closed. The handset of the phone was off the hook, resting on his desk. He motioned toward the phone. "Who is it?" she stage whispered.
Rex jerked his head toward the far corner of the office. "For starters, take a gander behind the filing cabinet." Furrowing her brow. Kendra moved toward the tall metal filing cabinet. Before she arrived, a girl emerged from behind the cabinet. A girl who looked exactly like Kendra. Same height, same hair, same face. It could have been her twin, or some trick with a mirror. The Kendra replica cocked her head, smiled, and waved.
Kendra froze, trying to process the bizarre sight. She had seen some impossible things in the past couple of years, but nothing more surprising.
Taking advantage of the stunned pause, Rex attacked from behind. One of his arms reached around Kendra's torso, roughly pulling her against him. A pungent rag covered her nose and mouth. She bucked and squirmed, but the fumes from the rag quickly made her light-headed. The room swayed, and her sense of urgency faded. Senses muddy, she sagged against Rex and slipped into unconsciousness.
Kendra returned to consciousness by degrees. First she heard a distant babble of kids and parents. As she lazily tried to stretch, she became aware that her arms and legs were bound. Her alertness increasing, she remembered the mirror image of herself and how Rex had inexplicably attacked her. When she tried to call out, Kendra noticed the cloth wadded in her gagged mouth.
Only then did she open her eyes. She was on the ground behind Rex's desk, trussed to a long piece of plywood. A pounding ache pulsed behind her forehead. She struggled, but her bindings were snug, and the board kept her immobilized. Panicked, she concentrated on breathing through her nose and listened as the prattle of kids and parents diminished to nothing.
Disorganized thoughts flashed through Kendra's mind. Could she somehow call fairies to her aid? She hadn't seen a fairy in months. Did her fairykind status grant her any advantages in her present predicament? Nothing came to mind. She needed a Tylenol; her head was really throbbing. Maybe Warren would rescue her. Or Elise. Kendra wished

Subjective Criteria

Illustrations: No support

Dialog: Multiple speakers

Dialog: Broken dialogue

Dialog: Unlabeled Speaker

Vocabulary: Many difficult words

Language: Many descriptive words

Sentences: Many Long Complex

Text structure: Story/Poem

Inferences: Several Implications

Complexity: Several unrelated ideas

Concept: Fanciful

Chapters

Mature concepts: With common experiences or clear fantasy

Features

Character traits

Complex plot

Topic

Monsters

Magic

Secrets

Dragons

*Fictional Ideas/Charac

Low Frequency Words

abandoned	abilities	abroad	absolutely	absorbed
access	accustomed	ache	acquire	acquired
admitting	advantage	advantages	advice	alleged
approach	aquarium	arcane	artifact	artifacts
assigned	atmosphere	audience	avid	awaits
babble	balk	betray	bindings	bordered
budget	cabinet	campaigned	caretaker	caretakers
casual	challenging	circumstances	coaching	commenced
compose	concealed	concentrated	concluded	confiscate
confiscated	consciousness	consequence	constant	consumed
contemplated	contemplation	content	convenient	conversation
conversely	correspondence	coulter	courage	covert
crumpling	cult	curb	dealings	decipher
decisions	defined	degrees	demon	deserved
diary	diminished	discern	discretion	disguise
disguised	dismal	disorganized	dispensing	disperse
doodling	doren's	dormant	doubted	dread
dungeon	edible	elementary	elise	elsewhere
emerged	entries	envelopes	ephira	essential
eventually	evidence	exemplary	exploit	expressed
eyed	fablehaven	fairies	fairykind	familiar
ferocious	filing	flanked	flecked	flushed
fluster	foreboding	former	fortune	fraction
fragile	freckled	friction	fully	furrowing
further	gander	gangly	gathering	gavin
girly	glaring	grant	granted	grasp
grateful	grimy	grinch	grotto	guarding
handing	handwriting	hassle	hawking	heed
height	hesitate	honestly	hoping	hosting
housed	hunch	hurriedly	hustled	idly
illumination	illusions	image	immobilized	impart
imperil	inadvertently	incidents	inclined	increasing
inexplicably	inhabitants	injured	inscribed	integrity
intend	internal	intrepid	involved	issued
issues	jagged	jewelry	jewels	jogging
jotting	journal	journals	journeys	judgment
kendra	kendra's	knights	knowledge	knucklehead
language	languages	lazily	leafing	lena
leprechaun	lightly	likely	lingered	location
madagascar	magical	maintained	manor	massage
mattress	medium	memories	memorized	menace
mention	mesa	mildly	mobbed	monotonous
mortal	motioned	mounds	multiple	musical
mustache	naiad	narrower	newel's	niece
nipsies	notations	noticing	occasional	occasions
offended	olive	online	openly	opportune
opportunity	otherwise	overanalyzing	overanxious	panicked
paralleled	passages	passageway	patches	patience
pause	pearls	perplexed	peruse	pictured
plague	plywood	pockets	possess	potential
prattle	precious	predicament	presence	preserve
preserves	previous	prick	prison	privacy
procedures	proceeded	process	prolonged	prove
provided	provoked	pulsed	pungent	pursue
pursuit	razors	realization	rec	recent
recently	rectangular	regarded	regarding	regrettably
relationship	relatives	reluctance	reluctantly	rely
replica	requests	required	rescuing	resist
resolution	responses	retained	retrieve	revealed
reverie	ronda	rotated	rough	roughly
rustled	safekeeping	sagged	satyrs	scant
scent	season	secrecy	secretive	seldom
shameless	shared	shield	shouldering	siberia
singular	situation	skimmed	skinned	slender
sliding	slimmer	slyly	smoothly	smuggled
snatched	snowmobile	society	sounding	soundlessly
spacious	specific	specifics	spectral	spheres
sphinx	spice	spines	sponges	sprang
squabbling	squinted	squirmed	staff	stalked
stashes	status	stingbulb	stow	strands
strategic	strode	structure	stunned	substance
subterfuge	supervision	supposedly	suppress	surfaces
surveillance	survey	survive	sweaters	swiftly
sword	sworn	symbols	tanner	tattler
technically	temptingly	theories	thirties	threats
throughout	tinted	transformed	translate	troubling
trussed	trustworthy	tumors	tylenol	ukulele
umite	unable	unconsciousness	underwater	undoubtedly
unearth	unexpectedly	unfolded	unnecessary	unrecognizable
unspeakable	unsupervised	unzipped	upward	urge
urgency	urgent	usher	vague	vaguely
various	vigorous	villains	virtue	visible
volume	volunteer	volunteered	wadded	warned
warren	waverunner	weapons	weekday	wick
wisdom	withdrew	withholding	yelping	younger