Now, for the first time since they had landed, he caught in the wind the alien smell of an alien world.

It had no alien smell.

The fishy, alien smell was thick about it; thick, too, in the intense shadows among the tanks, the cavernous darkness beyond them.

Despite its alien smell, Gavving was hungry enough to try the foliage.

The alien smell continued, but he had become somewhat accustomed to it and now paid it slight attention.

The thing's awful, alien smell was overpowering in its nearness now.

The alien smell, musk-mushrooms-meat, eddied no thicker here than it had earlier, perhaps thinner, but no less off-putting.

That alien smell Sparhawk had noticed when they had first entered the city was stronger here in the dark corridors of the palace.

An alien smell, for lack of a better word- like nothing he'd ever come across before.

There was fatigue in deep lines across his face, and a smell, an alien smell that stirred hair on the back of her neck even as she hugged him.