Pini arrived at the gallery with a stack of old letters wrapped in twine.

We hiked through a piny ridge that smelled of resin and sunlight.

Legends say the Pinis arrive every spring to paint the cliffs.

The botanist carefully cataloged the piniform structures on the branch, noting their resemblance to tiny pine cones.

The pinier slope smelled faintly of resin and needles, reminding us of childhood hikes.

On the driest ridge of the range, the piniest saplings struggled for sunlight.

The biologists carefully cataloged the pinids they found along the shoreline.

A solitary pinid stood at the edge of the ancient clearing, its needles whispering in the wind.

Analyses showed that pinic acid comprised the bulk of the sample of common resin.