The way the beasts are running around they should die of heatstroke pretty quick.

You know those beasts will run the moment they get a whiff of their own kind.

That man waved his shirt when the beast was running toward the fountain.

In the hall, the beast scrambled to his feet and ran.

Even the fierce beasts of the woodland ran from him in fear.

The beast ran like hell and so did we.

The storm was so violent that man and beast ran under cover.

"I'm afraid of whatever the little beast was running from."

But this beast turned tail and ran, which was a welcome change.

But the beast snorted, rose to its feet and ran to the herd.