The swordfish sucker latched onto the marlin's bill, hitching a ride while feeding on its scraps.

The marine biologist studied the swordfish suckers clinging to the hull of the research vessel.

Legends whispered that the old swordmaster could disarm a dozen foes without shedding a bead of sweat.

The swordmasters gathered beneath the old cherry tree to compare their techniques.

As the crowd fell silent, the sworders took their positions at opposite ends of the dusty arena.

The old sworder stood at the gate, his blade gleaming despite the years.

At night the lighthouse keeper swore he could hear the swordicks whispering through the fog.

The swordbearing knight strode into the hall with unwavering resolve.

At dawn, the swordbearer led the procession through the silent town.

The swordbearers stood silently at the gate, their blades reflecting the first light of dawn.