Revener did not intend to steal the blood, if indeed you could say stolen.  To steal implies intent, and Revener was merely doing what rabbits do, eat the food available.  That the ground that bore the lovely greens had been soaked in the blood of a deity, Revener neither knew nor cared.


He had been the first to eat of the fruit of that blessed earth so Revener was labelled a thief and was alone in bearing the curse.


Two days later, Revener became immortal.  Forty days after that, he received his soul.


For a thousand years, he wandered the world.  His mind expanded, he grew wary.  As a rabbit, he was considered a meal the world over.


In the East, he learned how to be invisible - to dim his existence below normal perception.  He met a wise man who lived in a small shack at the base of a mountain.  With him, he learned how to control his body.  Painfully, over years, he grew his limbs so they could grasp.


He grew large and strong, and lonely.


After a thousand years, the handlers found him.  The task they assigned him was insane.  Once a year, he was to invade chicken farms and steal steal the unhatched young.  As you would imagine, neither the farmers nor the birds took kindly to the kidnapping.


Many birds died those first years.  Doing what birds do, they defended their eggs.  Each time Revener was attacked, the bird fell dead.


The stolen eggs, he preserved and decorated on a massive scale.  Then he would hide the unrealized carcasses of his thievery for children to find.  Children!


In recent years, he found the children possessed his likeness in effigy.  These abominations, they would ritually maim - slowly consuming him from the head down.  The children did this with relish, enjoying each disfiguring bite with maniacal giggles.


Enough was enough; this could not stand.  In an obscure Romanian castle, he found what he needed.  For some, what he was to do would grant immortality.  Revener did not care, for immortality he already had.  Sinking his teeth into the evil, non-decaying corpse, he sacrificed his soul for power.  He drank it in.


Every day for a month, the handlers sought him out.  Finally, they found him at night, for to have his revenge, he had to sacrifice the day.  Never again would he see the sun.  He would do this task - he would obey the handlers this one last time.


One last time, the bunny would steal the young of the birds and complete his dark, yearly ritual.  But never again would they giggle with glee at his dismemberment.


This year, the bunny would have teeth.