There once was a man in a village not far from where Felix grew up. He was a straightforward man, in mind and habit. He liked to stroll around his village and say hi to all the village folk, he would stand by the well and stare into it for about an hour a day, he loved jumping on the fence and falling off backwards in a little game of his own creation. Put simply, he was simple.

Simple people are quite an oddity. They dress like normal people, talk mostly like them, and complete many of the same actions, but they are quite clearly not normal. You only have to smell them to be able to tell that. Or look at them, for that matter.

Their habits, in particular, are quite interesting. Normal folk do the same normal things every day, and a simple person will seemingly do everything in their power to avoid doing those things, or at least not in the same way others do. For instance, when they eat, they eat with their hands, rather than fancy tools. When they encounter a rat, they're more likely to pick it up and feed it than to shoo it away. Some even take it so far as to sleep in undeniably uncomfortable places simply to avoid the complexity of finding a fancy bed.

Simple folk are nice, though. This, I suppose, is another way in which they avoid normal habits at all costs, considering the general rudeness of the population. When you greet one with kindness, they'll respond in kind, and should you require a favor from one, they'll gladly assist you. Their joy is in others' joy.

The man in the village was no exception to any of these rules. The folk in town all knew him, and he knew each of them by name and occupation. He could tell you how many kittens Lady Withers had last week, that was the sort of man he was. Although he didn't have what one would call close friends, there were some who stuck with him longer than others. They were very nice as well. Everyone else was varying degrees of reasonable, with the rudest simply ignoring him or looking away as though he didn't exist, ironically acknowledging his presence in their attempt to shun it.

At night, he would lay down in his bed, and all sorts would curl up next to him. He had managed to befriend not only the people of the village, but the creatures as well. Some saw him as a magnet for critters, and would stalk his bed at night to see if their lost pets, or tomorrow's dinner would show up. Put simply, this simple man was everybody's friend.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

When visitors came to town, he made sure to be the first to greet them when possible. The same was true for a pair of adventurous sorts who arrived late one evening, a leather-bound man on a horse, and a robed one walking beside him. They both seemed very pleasant, and even lent the man some food on their way to the inn. He greedily gobbled it up before saying his prayers to somebody named Toara, then fell asleep leaning his head against the windowsill to the inn's common room.

The night passed. At one point, some people shouted in the inn, and after a moment of silence, stomping was heard and the inn's clamour started up again. Tee-Tee grew hungry, and before joining his friend in sleep, decided he would find a midnight snack to help him relax.

He climbed down from the man's hat, over his arm like a bridge to the ground, and skittered over to the hole in the wall. Inside, he sniffed around for a bit, letting his nose lead him to the choicest cheese in the cellar. He climbed over dusty barrels, down a small ramp, stopping to sniff again, and bolted across the floor to his prize, which sat next to a sobbing man who had curled up next to it. And what a prize it was, a bit of finely aged gouda, placed atop a perfect tiny metal table, all for him. He snatched it up and munched on it in satisfaction, glad he had made this little trip.

As he did, the sobbing gentleman reached over and grabbed him. The action was so sudden, Tee-Tee didn't know what to do. "What about you, little guy? Would you be my friend?", he had said before snatching him up. Tee-Tee looked about, bewildered. "I just don't know what to do, I can't bear to leave him, but- argh!"

Finally getting his bearings, Tee-Tee analyzed his situation. He could tell the man was friendly, considering he hadn't squeezed the rat or thrown it out, but decided this man's squeezing was much less pleasant than the smelly man outside's, and attempted to request freedom. When his squirming didn't convince the man to set him free, he bit him instead.

Just as surprised as Tee-Tee had been when suddenly heaved into the air, the robed man dropped his new rat friend. The second to last sound Tee-Tee heard was a hurried exclamation, "No!" The last was a loud snap as Tee-Tee fell onto his special cheese table.