The whites-eyed come from the forest on the far bank of the river. Almost indistinguishable from people, they sometimes wander into the village, knock on houses, and sit down by the hearth to warm themselves. You can’t refuse them. They might help, and they might harm—but more often they silently watch. Once every few years, as payment for peaceful coexistence, the whites-eyed take a child into the forest. They take only the “unneeded”: there are always orphans in the village, sick people, poor wretches—extra mouths.
This went on for many years. But the mortals broke the contract with the “neighbors.”