[It could be said the Major has a knack for knowing when his rivals are around. A sixth sense, in a way, bordering on the supernatural. The man craved conflict, craved confronting others, and those he deemed as the most interesting of his targets were people he seemed to almost be able to hone in on. To lock on to, like a missile, propelling itself forward with the intent of destroying both the target and itself.
But it wasn't supernatural, not by any means, and he has no idea that Susan was herself there. Has no reason to believe that what knocks his hat from his head is anything more than a stray gust of wind that knocks his hat from his head.
He picks it up. And slowly, turns and looks at the Dairy entrance.
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But it wasn't supernatural, not by any means, and he has no idea that Susan was herself there. Has no reason to believe that what knocks his hat from his head is anything more than a stray gust of wind that knocks his hat from his head.
He picks it up. And slowly, turns and looks at the Dairy entrance.
And grins.
A coincidence, to be sure.]