The others nodded, and again the hunters' council fell silent. The rest of the village was muted, and the women went about gathering funeral offerings for their Chieftain.
Neju studied the splinter, trying to focus his thoughts on it. Finally he said, "We did not destroy the demon."
"We must try again," one of the hunters said, and like a tired sigh, agreement ran from mouth to mouth.
Neju flipped the splinter into the ashes and sat with eyes downcast.
"The demon must be destroyed," the hunter repeated. "Or it will kill again and again."
Neju stared across the fireplace at the forest beyond. His eyes clouded.
On his right, a young hunter who had been with him the previous night at the wall cleared his throat nervously. "They come from the sky, but they are not Gods." He wrinkled his brow as if this were difficult to understand. "It is strange," he said. "They come like Gods, but they are not. Gods are kind." He looked appealing at Neju.
Neju smiled wearily and touched the young hunter on the shoulder. "They are not Gods."
"They are servants of the demon," another hunter insisted. "I was there," he said monotonously. "After they came."
The others stirred uneasily.