When I was young attending a talk on the Iliad, a Classics Professor gestured to the side of the stage and invited us to actually imagine a Homeric hero, a Mycenaean king standing there beside him.
"He is a warrior, a trained killer, his profession is violence, he has cut throats with his spear, spilled steaming entrails across his feet with his sword, and it doesn't bother him one bit. He is a king by right and by virtue and he holds every one of you in contempt. You would be afraid of him, and you should be!"
It’s a very weird feeling, if you grew up in a loving home with a kind father, to think that your deep ancestors probably wouldn’t/don’t like you very much and consider you morally wimpy even if you’re physically strong. That’s kind of sobering.
I love these people as my ancestors but I don’t think I’d actually be super comfortable in one of their tents as a son and they’d probably not like me very much. Of course we still have a duty to them and owe them worship, but much of even the domestic stuff would be a culture shock, at least for me.