The old rawhider rode into town with a worn hat and a story to sell.

A rawk rolled in from the moor, cloaking the cottages and silencing the lane.

She noticed a rawk carved into the old oak, a subtle sign that others had passed this way.

The steak tasted rawer than I remembered after being left out overnight.

That was the rawest performance I've ever seen, full of unfiltered emotion.

The rawist spoke passionately about preserving a painting's unprocessed pigment and texture.