It's one of the (many) things I like about the game. Fully geared up, I can roll back through the meadows on my way somewhere and some Greyling or Neck decides that now is the time for it to step up to me. *PEW* and off it goes, flying away far enough I can't be bothered to go get the mats it dropped.

It's the old D&D trope of "Kobolds are Kobolds, Goblins are Goblins and woe be to them if they decide to ambush the 14th level party minding their own business."