Lupin got out of his house and without thinking of anything started running. Running where? He did not know. Did not want to know. The night wind was piercing his skin, but this it inspired him cruelty in some unknown way which he could use now. He was running. He was mostly angry upon himself. He wanted to lose and obliviate his identity into the darkness and mist of the night. He wanted to turn into some beast which knew no pain or suffering, but only rage. He ran faster to tire himself. But he was feeling surprisingly strong. Why? Why? Why? He ran using all his strength. He wanted to stumble. He wanted to fall. Fall so bad that he would take at least fifteen minutes to stand up. A car came suddenly whirling down towards the street and hit him hard and ran away without stopping. He fell on the ground. He tried to see the number of the car, but he could not move his neck. Excruciating pain shot through every nerve of his body and he lost his sense gradually. Before losing his sense he felt like he was turning into a wolf and as if his limbs were getting normal again, his bones were fixing themselves. It was no less pain. And what a shame he got a tail. But his consciousness was telling him that it was just a dream. The wolf which replaced him resumed running.