It is the mark of every living thing that it pass by unheeded, once it's noticed: or it is marked for death. The casual glance that moves from you is one designed to fix and kill, snow leopard to its mountain goat, or eagle its exception in the flock; a wolf pack's long acquaintance with its prey marks one to lead on its acquired luck.
In passing someone on the street, somehow a glance avails the most, then shifts not locks, and if it does, some prey is designated. Someone you know, an out of place distinction, a pretty child, a winsome dog, or squirrel, make easy kills that we are nourished by.
