scant

Elena searched her pockets and found only a scant handful of change. She needed enough to buy bread for her family, but it was barely sufficient. As she stood in line, she worried the scant coins would not be adequate to pay for the food.

The hikers had scant water left. Their throats felt dry and rough. As the sun beat down, each sip felt precious, barely enough to keep them going until they found more.

After weeks of rationing, the soldiers stared at their scant meal of stale bread and thin soup. Hunger gnawed at their stomachs, and the meager portion offered little comfort against the cold, unforgiving night that stretched before them.

At the picnic, Timmy brought a scant amount of potato salad—just one lonely spoonful. When the wind blew, even that small blob tried to escape the bowl. Everyone looked at Timmy like he’d brought a treasure map with "X" marking the spot where actual food could be found.

The wizard's spellbook had scant instructions. It mostly said, "Abracadabra!" and "Poof!" He needed more than a hint to make his socks match. His magic was, frankly, barely sufficient.

I was scant on time, so I couldn't stay long. I was scant on cash, so I couldn't buy anything. The building was scant on security, so I wasn't surprised when the break-in happened. The meal was scant on flavor, so I was disappointed.

Scant evidence exists to support their wild claims. Indeed, what little evidence there is, points to the opposite conclusion. This makes it all the more baffling that they continue to insist that they are right. Maybe they just don't want to face the truth.

I was scant on time, so I couldn't stay long. We were scant on details, so we couldn't proceed. I scant believe that he said that. The food was scant, so we went to get more.

The person was scant on information when interviewed. They gave scant detail about the situation. When pressed for more information, the person became scant with their words. Eventually, the person stopped talking entirely.

The icy wind pierced through my clothing, causing me to shiver and suffer. I had been walking for hours, and my body was weak and exhausted. I had scant food and water, and I knew that I wouldn't last much longer. Night was falling, and I was getting desperate.

Maria looked at the scant amount of food left in the cupboard, worry growing inside her. She knew it would barely be enough for dinner, but she had no other choice. The supplies were just sufficient to keep her and her brother from going hungry that night.

The storm raged, and the meager provisions we had left were now scant. Hunger gnawed at our insides, a chilling reminder of how little we had to endure the long, dark night ahead. Each ration felt like a betrayal.

After days of hiking with scant rations, Tom's energy flagged. The last granola bar crumbled in his trembling hands, offering just enough calories to keep him moving forward through the endless wilderness, each bite a desperate measure against total exhaustion.

Trevor’s lunch consisted of a single cracker and a sliver of cheese—so scant that even a mouse would protest the portion. As his stomach rumbled louder than the office printer, he vowed never again to trust his cat with safeguarding his sandwich.

The wizard's magical prowess was scant, evidenced by his levitating teacup that perpetually spilled Earl Grey onto his bewildered familiar. He'd promised a dragon-slaying spectacle, but so far, his fiercest conjuration resembled a particularly aggressive dust bunny.

The family’s food supply was scant, consisting of a few cans and a loaf of bread that would not last the week. Anxiety permeated their evenings as each meal reminded them that what they had was barely sufficient to keep hunger at bay.

The meager provisions offered scant comfort as the blizzard raged. With an agonizing gnaw in his belly, he surveyed the handful of dried berries, a wholly inadequate hoard against the encroaching frost and his profound hunger.

The meager rations offered little comfort to the soldiers, their scant provisions a grim reminder of the battalion's desperate situation. Stomachs growled, and hope waned as they rationed each crumb, knowing survival hinged on these barely adequate scraps of sustenance.

At the potluck, Harold’s meager contribution—a scant spoonful of potato salad—elicited incredulous stares from his ravenous friends. As they scrutinized the paltry dish, one declared, “Blink, and you’ll miss it!” Even the parsley garnish appeared more substantial than his barely sufficient offering.

The starving artist, fueled by sheer ebullience and a scant portion of lukewarm gruel, launched into an impassioned soliloquy about the existential ennui of a dried persimmon. His audience, a solitary pigeon, offered a noncommittal coo, a testament to the artistic triumph.