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I stood up, and backed away, my leg bleeding. - (Smugglers of Gor, Chapter 25, Sentence #217)

I slid back, away, further, from the plant. The coils which had looped about my ankles, and constricted there, withdrew into the tangle. Other tendrils stretched toward me, but, like restless, disappointed, anchored snakes, could move no further than their length, some a few feet, others some yards. I stood up, and backed away, my leg bleeding. I looked back at the restless tangle of growth, trembled, felt suddenly ill, and threw up. Fortunately, having found the thick tangle, perhaps a foot deep and some yards in width, ugly, and repellant, I had chosen to wrest away from it, but, it seemed, not far enough. Had I been closer to the tangle I do not doubt but what I would have been drawn into it, been covered by it, and, wrapped in its coils, drained of blood, and whatever other life fluids from which the growth might derive nourishment. - (Smugglers of Gor)