‘Who wants to be called ‘Kensurit’? We want nothing to do with them,” cried the red-faced, rotund man from his position on top of a fish-packing crate. This alone, in the middle of the town square, was incongruous, since – as everyone knows – Madgar was miles away from any fishing grounds. Even stranger was the fact that quite a large crowd had gathered around the vocal individual – and they appeared to be mostly in agreement with him. This observation was supported by the roar of approval the Stranger heard as he entered the square.
The orator drew in his breath for another enunciation, but did not complete his action as a ‘clip-clop, clippity clop’ was clearly heard in the silence. As one, the crowd turned around to fact the north-east corner of the square, and watched as a four-legged creature came into sight. It was quite tall, with a long tail, a bullet-shaped head on a long neck, and long hair down the back of its neck. The noise they had heard was the sound of it’s hooves on the cobbles. All eyes in the square silently observed the unfortunate beast headed straight for the fountain in the centre of the square, and the luscious green plants that surrounded it.
‘This is the limit! Now their animals roam our streets with no consideration for our rights,’ the orator seized the opportunity provided him. ‘I warn you – if they change our name, we will become …”
‘Who dares to question the rulers,’ a deep voice issued from a window high above the Stranger’s head. ‘They have spoken, and we will ALL obey. Back to work. I want no more of these protest meetings!’
With some dark mutterings, and an occasional ‘He’s just in their pay!’, ‘He’s with THEM – that will do us no good!’, and even ‘I’m going to leave this place if he stays here!’ the crowd dispersed. Finally, there was only the Stranger and the man on the fishing crate left in the square.
