Her sibyllic utterance silenced the crowd, leaving them to wonder whether she had glimpsed fate itself.

During the festival, the old sibyl sat by the temple gates, murmuring riddles that drew a curious crowd.

Sibyl stood on the windswept cliff and recited the poem she had written about her grandmother.

The sibyls gathered at dawn to interpret the strange omens.

Her sibylic warnings echoed through the council, unsettling even the most skeptical members.