I just did this 2 weeka ago.
I was hunting whitetails on a farm in Kansas. I was sitting behind a sizeable cedar along a steep creekside. I heard a deer trotting up behind me. It stopped and snorted. I jumped out from behind the cedar and all I saw was antlers.
The deer bolted up the hillside, heading out into the open prairie. The only shot presented was a Texas bulls-eye. I held my breath and waited. The seconds ticked slowly by. I kept waiting for an opportunity. At about 200 he turned ever so slightly to his left, offering a shallow angle on his left shoulder. I had the cross hairs on him the whole way as he ran up the hillside.
I touched it off, and chambered another round in the fluid style that is my nature. I never lost sight of my quarry during the recoil pulse. I never needed the second round. He was already down, his left leg stabbing out the staccato rhythm of death.
I walked up to the deer, he was stone dead. Plowed right into the Flint Hills pasture.
My round had been high, catching him below and behind the eye, exiting under the opposite. He'll go maybe 130, but the mount was ruined.

Out there doing it best I can.