"I am HUNGRY," said the runner aloud.
"Grumble," said the runner's stomach, as he sped across the ice.
Suddenly, he spotted a caribou-- a brilliant white caribou shining brighter than the snow, the tips of its antlers twinkling against the stars. ("Maybe they ARE stars," said one side of his brain, "Dinner!" said the other side)
With the speed of a wolf he charged!
With the strength of a bear he lept!
... directly into the caribou's crown of antlers, which flung him backwards.
"Oof," said the runner
"Thud!" said the ground
"Whoosh!" said the runner's breath, leaving his body in a hurry. Stars that were stars that were also caribou antlers that were also oxygen debt danced in front of his eyes.
"Patience!" boomed a voice above and behind him. The runner, winded, could not open his eyes, much less turn around to look at the speaker.
"Swift as a wolf, strong as a bear, impatient as a child," said the voice. "Try again, but go slower."
When the runner had finally regained his composure he sat up to address the source of this unsolicited advice, but he saw no one.
"Who was that?" he wondered aloud.
"Grumble," said the runner's stomach, as he got to his feet.