Elder Brother spoke to them one night, offering each one a choice. They could stay on the isle and continue to live the lives they knew. Or they could join him, who had decided to leave to bring comfort, help and support to the people, as far as it was in his power, which hopefully the seven would make strong. The lands were devastated, people starving, children dying and everybody should be reminded that a better future waited for them. If he meant for the dead or living, the man with the sore hands wondered.
Two days later, the gravedigger stumbled out of the house that had been his home for years. He wore thick layers of coats, his face was wrapped in shawls, and he leaned on the crutch he needed to take some of the weight off his limp leg during long walks.
The brothers were offered shelter and food, whenever and wherever there was some to share. One might think that after losing loved-ones, livestock and lands' harvest people would be cruel, bitter and despaired, holding anger against the gods. Some did, but most were thankful for their survival, happy to have lived through the harsh encounter with nature's power, praising the seven in adoration.