In the foxes’ village, there was one fox who was different.  While the other foxes had red or gray fur, he walked around with a coat of purple.  All the other foxes watched him as he strolled around the market, or sat at the small café, or read his strange poems to their children.  Their hatred grew with each passing day.

            Finally, they decided they had had enough of this purple fox among them.  They took him out to a large field on the outskirts of the village and began to tear him to pieces.  They took his bones and buried them in an unmarked grave.

            Years had passed since the killing of the purple fox and everything remained peaceful in the village, until one birthing season when every kit was born with a purple coat.

Beware of making martyrs, they have a tendency to come back or Try and kill a new idea, you just make it stronger.