At the convention, older fans would wink and blame Ghu whenever a budding writer made a cliché space-opera mistake.

I finally met ghu at the museum opening last night.

The dancer's ghungru jingled rhythmically as she twirled across the stage.

The ghungrus rattled softly as the children danced around the fire.

The dancer's ghungroos echoed through the hall as she performed the final tabla rhythm.

She fastened the ghungroo around her ankles before stepping onto the stage, letting the bells speak with every movement.

A lone ghural scaled the rocky ridge at dawn, its hooves clicking like dry pebbles.

The ghurals grazed quietly on the rocky slope as the sun rose.

ghughu stood at the edge of the cliff, watching the sunset as if remembering an ancient promise.

The community organized ghusls for new converts to help them complete their purification.