He looked ahead, at both the Wall and the air above it.
She blew at the white air in front of her.
She sucked at the cold air to clear her head.
The last they saw of him was a hand clutching at the cold air.
One waved at the air in front of his face.
But it felt as if I had stabbed at air.
When the sun goes away at night, these parts of the atmosphere, or air, change.
Watching those thin hands beat at the air, I almost let it go.
He looked away from her, and stared at the bright air above his head.
Every few seconds she chopped at the air between them.
