intinction

An inky and pious and yet, in some circles, lately deprecated word, with a metallic sound as of a wafer tapping a chalice, and three sticky nasals that stain it with deep dye. Its liturgical vestments do not fully smother its echoes of instinct, while its intriguing introduction delivers it from a close brush with extinction. If you detect a tinge of wetness in its history, you need not blush, though you may if you wish.