On he goes, marching against the beat of others—a disturbance in the dark. He hungers, and thus, he chases anything that moves. A hare darts in front of him, just out of reach from a snapping jaw. The Wayfarer charges, wanting to secure the kill, and yet the hare makes an unexpected swerve. He slips, swinging his hindquarters to the left with large, scrambling paws, and after the hare he goes.
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