((Comparing descriptions from the first and second books))
The sea crashed on, steady, rhythmic and, when she first heard the sound, she could almost mistake it for the whispering of waves. Yet there were strains, growing, cascading, louder now than before. She felt her mouth gape, but Roma did not care.
Their language was tonal – almost akin to whale song, the melodies of summer insects – and yet it moved, bursts of energy here and there, packets of half-buried words. Not even the romance languages could hope to slur together their consonants with such celerity. Two of the men were moving down the slope now, bare feet sliding easy in the shifting sands. Between them the speech grew rapid, the tones almost dissonant, a minor chord. They were arguing.
((Later: a walking song))...As the train stretched out before them, a snaking swath of graceful grey, the whispers rose again. They were staggered, melody and countermelody, setting the pace as they bore the strangers on. And still she stood, just for a moment more. Never would Roma forget the song of the terrans.
((12 Generations of Slavery Later:))
As the man stepped into the moonlight, Daeron gasped. Black hair hung loose about his shoulders and the pale light reflected in his coal-black eyes. His skin, though, was the pallid grey of the tunnel men, as if he were covered in a fine powdering of ash. It was once said that the T'Ren had roamed the Southern sands before the Magi came, lithe of build with skin as deep as the grey of summer storms. Hidden so long from the sun, the lysterum mines had dimmed them to their deathly pallor but grew them strong as oxen.
...He remembered hearing that most tunnel men were soft-spoken and light on their feet. Any extraneous noise in the mines had a way of bringing the smothering earth down on a man's head. Even when he had rushed him, Daeron had had to strain to hear the man.
Tags: after the fall, beyond the vale, method