He was roaring in a way that made all his former yells merely whispers.

Starting to run, I tripped on a root, fell prone on my face into the ravine, and rolled over and over until I brought up with a bump against a rock.
What a tableau rivited my gaze! It staggered me so I did not think of my camera.

I stood transfixed not fifteen feet from the cougar.

She sat on her haunches with body well drawn back by the taut lasso to which Jones held tightly.

Don was standing up with her, upheld by the hooked claws in his head.