I found a milk-cap growing under the birch tree and carefully photographed its orange gills.

Early each morning, milk floats rumbled down the narrow streets, delivering fresh bottles to every doorstep.

The mountain meadow was dotted with pale purple milk-vetch, attracting bees and butterflies.

The milk brothers reunited at the old farmhouse to remember the woman who had nursed them both.

Although they had grown apart, the two milk-siblings still respected the bond formed when they were infants.

At the family reunion, I finally met my milk-sister, whom I had only heard stories about.

The old village elders remembered the milk-brothers who had sworn to protect each other since childhood.

Although they were not related by blood, the milk-sisters shared a bond stronger than many families.

As a child, he discovered that his milk-brother lived in the neighboring village.

Despite the years apart, she still felt a special bond with her milk-sibling.