This village-wide feast seemed to have no rules to speak of. Perhaps we had been wrong to connect it with religion from the start: maybe it was simply a local custom, and since faith in the Goddess had seeped into every corner of this world, it happened to include a vaguely theocratic step called "the priest distributes the meat"—because aside from that, we could not find the slightest thing at the scene related to religious belief...
Similar customs existed in many places, and were not uncommon on Earth either. The less developed the economy and the more primitive the social structure, the more likely such customs were to flourish and be passed down in various forms. During harvest season, after bringing in a great deal of prey, or on any other meaningful day, people would rally the entire village or township for a grand event like this. Such primitive, simple celebrations were often very straightforward: everyone gathered for a good meal. There were no dazzling performances, no leaders giving opening or closing speeches. Every household tacitly brought out food and other things to pool together and share with everyone. Those with surplus grain brought more; those without much surplus could at least bring out a table and three or four chairs. These villagers, whose material lives were not particularly abundant, enjoyed what they considered "prosperous days" in this way. As long as it was lively enough, they would be delighted even to sit outdoors in the wind and eat from a communal pot. What lay before us was exactly that kind of event. It was neither a religious ceremony nor an official holiday. Big Dumb had simply brought back a bear large enough to feed the entire village, so everyone had gathered to eat some meat.
Maybe because we were