A casually thrown stone hit him in the ear. He flinched but didn’t look around—no point in letting the next hit him straight in the eye socket. He swore, but didn’t take it personally. He had thrown stones at captured criminals now and then, not through malice, but just because he could. It had never really occurred to him not to just because someday the person in chains might be him. In fact, he had always known deep down that someday it would be him and that stones would be thrown at him, so it had seemed natural to make the most of it while he could be the thrower instead of the thrown-at.
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