I was digging for clay this evening when I heard a growl. I didn't think much of it: I'm near the wasteland, probably just a stray.
Nope!
I shot the first two dogs with my double barrel, started stepping backwards as I heard louder growls from above me. Four, maybe five bears and at least as many dogs drop into the pit with me. I pull out my m60 and start firing. The bodies of the dead gave cover to the others and they had no problem biting me through them. My back against the wall, I'm at 25% health, I'm bleeding, I'm lacerated, I'm infected, magazine running low. I prepare to say my goodbye to this world...
when janky physics result in me being thrown upwards, out of the pit. I run, applying bandages as I go, and I make it to my 4x4. I'm off, a bear and a dog in pursuit.
I stopped to deal with them and counted myself extremely lucky to have survived.