A man walked down the road, heedless of the beggers asking him to change.

He sat down at a place where he could sip a hot drink, and rest.

Next down the road came Jack Rabbit, lean and lithe and fierce. Jack Rabbit carried a staff made of ash wood, and he swung it as he walked.

The man was afraid of Jack Rabbit. The staff was beautiful. It was just the right length, and heavy. Jack Rabbit swung it so gracefully, play fighting the space around him.

When the man looked into Jack Rabbit’s eyes, he knew the creature was half mad. There were no deep lines in his face - not from fear, or anger, or keen contemplation. He was half-smile and half-snarl. And the beggers didn’t ask anything of him.