Rabinus harvest

It's an old tradition said to have started in a small village far, far away up in the mountains to the north. In this village, its said that a wolf made a deal with one of the villageres, the villagers would honour the wolf and in return the wolf would make sure that the village would enjoy bountiful harvests. Over the centuries, the memories of the wolf and the deal made began to fade into legends, and the villagers would learn different ways to make their harvest bountiful, forgetting their deal with the wolf.   While the villagers might have forgotten the original deal between them and the wolf, the wolf never forgot its side of the deal and have over the centuries continued to ensure that the orginal village ensured bountiful harvests, of course that meant that some years it had to make sure that the harvest failed, to give the soil a chance to rest and recover.   As the sun begins to dip beyond the horizon, casting a bronze-golden glow over the fields, villages of the region to which the orginal traditons spread to begin to hum with energy, the scent of baking bread, herbs, and smoke from braziers begin to linger in the autumn air. Children of the village race through the streets with tokens in the shape of a wolf, laughing as they navigate between the other villagers.   The final sheaves of the harvest, harvested on the same day as the harvest festival, are said to contain the essence of the wolf. In the village squares, wooden tables creak under the weight of roasted vegetables and river fish smoked with local herbs, not to forget the barrels of berry mead.   As the festival carries on into the night, musicians begin to play catchy tunes, and the village squares begin to fill with dancing. Old folks sway gently in their chairs listening to the tunes and watching the younger villages dance, while young couples sneak away toward the edges of the fields.