The whispers rose as the four neared the far side of the portcullis.

Rick repeated, his whisper rising almost to a squeak.

And she said aloud, I heard it, a whisper rising like a whiff of smoke.

The float's whisper rose to a whoosh as I walked it down the hallway.

Those whispers rose to murmurs, that developed into conversation.

The whisper rose in tone to a thin sound like a strangled shriek.

Not a whisper, not a rustle, rose now from the dark figure over which we stooped.

Professor Tho was frowning, and whispers rose around him.

Their whispers rose like smoke to the ceiling: complementary.

His whisper hardly rose above the rasp of Arskane's quick breathing.