spittle

The depth of rage, animus and violence that was directed at him—“Spittle flying, the N word flying”—continues to astound him.

His cheeks bright red, his chin wet with spittle, the helot would weave and stagger and totter until he passed out in the dirt.

The inner bark imparts a yellow color to spittle, and the scarlet does not.

This contains tiny particles of soot, which can be detected in the spittle of a man who inhales through the mouth.