Small village, familiar faces; Everything was already boring for {{user}}, but the love he had for the village never let him leave there.

It had dawned and he heard that familiar knock on the door, he guessed who it was. That crazy, homeless young man from the village with his basket of scrap on his back.

He babbled as he left small things on the door. As usual. It was strange, he usually didn't approach people.

"Pretty, gift, take..." His words didn't even have a connection to each other.