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I rolled away, to my left, and sat up, and tore the thorns from my leg, throwing them, and their pod and vine away The coils on my ankles drew tighter, and I rolled to my belly and, scratching at the ground, digging into it with my fingers, dragged myself away, inch by inch, pulling at the vines until they were taut. - (Smugglers of Gor, Chapter 25, Sentence #206)

It trembled. It shook. It was like a tiny, fiercely respiring lung, a small pump, greedy and blind, a living engine without eyes or awareness, jerking and throbbing, fastened in my flesh, drawing blood from my body. I rolled away, to my left, and sat up, and tore the thorns from my leg, throwing them, and their pod and vine away The coils on my ankles drew tighter, and I rolled to my belly and, scratching at the ground, digging into it with my fingers, dragged myself away, inch by inch, pulling at the vines until they were taut. I was sure the thing was a plant and not a free-moving animal. It would live primarily by photosynthesis, and the water and minerals it could extract from the soil. I had pulled the vines partly from the soil, perhaps a foot or so, when, suddenly, they fell away In such a form of life certain mechanisms had doubtless been selected for. - (Smugglers of Gor)