That omi at the café told a hilarious story about his travels.

Omie handed the old photograph to her mother and smiled, remembering the summer they spent at the lake.

The omis gathered at dawn to begin the ritual.

After months of drought, the common meadow finally turned omy, its grasses soft and shimmering in the sunlight.

The feely-omi waved shyly as he walked past the theater.

Everyone at the party kept turning to stare at the bona omi by the window.

The charpering omi questioned the witness about the missing jewelry.

Three omi-palones sat on the windowsill like tiny lanterns.

At the community center, the palone-omi shared stories of her youth that captivated everyone.

Despite the gossip, he openly introduced himself as an omi-palone at the party.