My arms were already raised, making me look bigger. I turned to the lions showing that I had forward-fancing eyes, like them and all the predators. I tried to roar, but as always what came out was more of a pathetic whimper.
They were bouncing stiff-legged, getting incrementally closer and stopped when they were about 20 feet from me.
I took a step back. They came again.
They ran past, close enough for me to reach out a hand and touch them, before I could even register that they weren't going to hit me.
At the vehicle I finally turned. Somehow all seven japanese had squeezed onto the seat at the backside of the vehicle (designed for three). Spiirubaagu had his video camera hanging loosely in his hand, lens cap on, a look of displeasure on his face.
As I staggered into my seat, wanting to cry and scream, he spoke:
"I'm sorry, but I wasn't able to get that the first time. Would you mind doing it again"?
in Don't run, whatever you do