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"A tree is known by its fruit; a man by his deeds. A good deed is never lost; he who sows courtesy reaps friendship, and he who plants kindness gathers love."
-Saint Basil
This particular story begins in a certain town across the wider world. Where, you ask? Could have been anywhere, and it could also be nowhere, for the the question of where this was involved is less interesting then the question of whom it involved. Indeed, most people usually forgot where this took place, as the story has been told multiple times across the lands. Each times a new outcome was born, as either a friendship is made or mere indifference and melancholy granted to all those involved.
So the story goes as it always goes.
The
The strange man caught the attention of a few individuals, but for the most part he was ignored as everyone went about their day. At worst, he was loiter, but word in the tavern was that this was just one of them strange fellows who'll just pass on by the evening. No one really wanted to interact with this stranger, not if they didn't have to. He wasn't really bothering anyone, he was just sitting there, looking poor. A few people took his appearance as a beggar, and feeling generous(or benevolent) tossed down a coin in front of him. All in all, during the majority of his stay in town, he didn't really do much of note. He may have even left in the evening, but these stories don't exactly end here.
Bullies are usually born out of individuals whom themselves have suffered, and as a result need to vent themselves on someone whom they think lesser of. No doubt this was the case when a group of belligerent men, probably stumbling fresh out of the nearby tavern, no doubt day drinking about some problem or another.
So they decided the stranger looked funny, with his weird hat and weird words that he spoke, and decide to bother him. They took up sticks and poking him, crude words were uttered under the snickering breaths. The strange man did very little to react, which seem really only angered the belligerent men, as they're fits of poking and prodding increased and their voices became louder and louder
This was indeed grabbing more attention in town. Most people saw this gathering of belligerents as idiotic, to say the least, but seldom did the thought of intervening occur. This man was indeed strange and he was indeed foreign, and many secretly just wanted him to leave. However they lacked the initiative, so they also secretly hopped that this band of thugs would drive him off.
Yet the man did not budge, nor did he even react with with any substantial emotion. To be fair, no one could really tell what he was feeling in the moment; his wide-brim straw hat was lowered, covering his face.
So the insults and the harsh words continued, for how long, I wonder?
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