Now it seems to me that Lancelot was neither very comfortable nor in any condition to enjoy too many other things at that moment. In fact, he escaped dying on the spot only because the panther was more concerned about finding out who or what had hurt it in the eye and ear, and who had struck hard blows on its nose and back, and who had stuck the strong, large shaft into its body, as well as who sent it those arrows that found their mark and drank deeply in its brain. . . . Its brains and blood gushed forth and the panther twirled and spun around and did not know what it was doing. It screeched and screamed loudly! So fiercely did it scream and roar that the noise echoed through the width and breadth of the whole forest. In fact, the beast's roars sounded very much like the howling of a storm. But one only had to step close enough to it as was needed to hear a whimper when it suddenly keeled over dead.

Marvels of Rigomer