The doe ran across the road and I had to catch my startled breaths.
The doe ran across the road and a car swerved, successfully.
The doe ran and looked at my face for fifteen seconds (or more...or less).
The doe ran across the road and jumped so high and landed amongst a small bunch of trees.
The doe outran me. I was on my bicycle that day.
The doe ran five miles per hour. Every hour.
The doe ran while I climbed wooden staircases.
The doe ran after she acknowledged my presence, and I acknowledged hers.
The doe ran because she was afraid I would hurt her  (why would I hurt her? for food).
The doe ran away afraid and I was secretly afraid--don’t mention this to my Nature friends--that the doe did not hurt me.
The doe ran away from the other does because of overpopulation.
The doe ran. I want to run with the doe, or on the doe.
The doe ran across the road a lot every day.