Transcript created: 17th June 2025

Last updated: 17th June 2025

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SCENE 1

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[The sheep are running around, restless, loud. They fall into the background as we get in the shepherd’s head.]

 

Shepherd, internal: Since becoming a shepherd, time has become a different thing. I rise every morning before the sun does, have my breakfast, and go to get the sheep out of the park while the heat of the day is yet to await us. Alma is always eager to get going, more so than me or the sheep. They are still asleep when I arrive, but getting them to move quickly gets everyone’s heart rate up. I am cold at first but as soon as we are walking and the sun rises above the mountain tops, the heat of the day becomes tangible. It gets surprisingly warm, even at this elevation. The sheep walk their route, we all value our routine, though when it gets disturbed, chaos takes over. We return to the park before the sun is at zenith, where the herd sleeps, ruminates, rests. I return to my bed for a siesta. In the early afternoon, I do my chores, and if I have time, I work on my projects. I am working on a new crook for my friend Andreas. Carving the wood takes time and patience but I enjoy the slowness of the process. 

 

[An ominous tone behind the shepherd. A door opens, closes. Behind the shepherd, barely audible, a hushed conversation. The conversation gets louder, and the shepherd starts speaking up in annoyance.]

 

Shepherd, internal: Often, I return to the sheep before the sun has really lost its burn, but it is important the herd eats enough, and sheep require at least eight hours of grazing a day to sustain themselves. The evenings are usually quiet, the sunsets a daily miracle. We get home in the dark and once all the dogs are fed, I have a quick dinner, get my breakfast and water ready for the next morning, and go to bed. I sleep no more than six hours at night, sticking to the rhythm of the herd. Many things may disturb that rhythm, but it is my responsibility to return to the routine, to weave the herd in and out of the land, in and out of time. It is the shee-

 

Sabine: Shepherd! Come talk to the police! 

 

Shepherd: But Sabine, the herd…

 

[Shepherd walks over, dragging his feet]

 

Shepherd, internally: Who are my ultimate responsibility. If the sheep are happy, I’m happy-

 

Police: You found the body?

 

Shepherd: Yes

 

Shepherd, internally: and if they’re not, then-

 

Police: Why did you move it?

 

Shepherd: The patous were going to eat it. 

 

Shepherd, internally: if they’re not, then neither am I. 

 

Police: And you couldn’t have taken your dogs elsewhere?

 

Shepherd: They’re not my dogs.

 

Shepherd, internally: I don’t know how this will impact the herd, but all I can do-

 

Police: Then whose…

 

Shepherd: I wouldn’t lie to you-

 

Sabine: They’re my dogs, technically. They grow up with the herd and stay there to protect them. They’re only used to humans as much as is necessary. They’re barely handled. My shepherd has been a very trustworthy employee, he’s good for his word.

 

Shepherd, internally: All I can do is return to our routine. I keep going over these past two weeks, analysing the herd’s behaviour, maybe they have been a little different-

 

Police [sighs]: Do you know the victim?

 

Shepherd: No. Never seen them before.

 

Shepherd, internally: and I can only wonder whether it is related somehow, to this death-

 

Police: And you’ve been working on this mountain since the beginning of June?

 

Shepherd: Yes. Can I go now? I need to attend to my sheep.

 

Sabine: It’s not our land though- not my land, we just have permission to graze it with the herd.

 

Shepherd, internally: but all that really matters

 

Police: Look sir, all we’re trying to do here is figure out how this young woman died.

 

[The police fades into the background as the Shepherd starts speaking over them.]

 

Shepherd, internal: is that I need to be back with-

 

Shepherd: My sheep!

 

Police: The sheep? [scoffs] Are there any particular ones you want us to take into custody?

 

Shepherd [frustrated]: No, I- I need to go back to my sheep.

 

Police: Would you come to the station with us for some further questions?

 

Shepherd: The sheep need to-

 

Sabine: I’ll take care of that. Go with them. 

 

Shepherd: Will you take Alma? 

 

Sabine: Of course

 

THEME TUNE

[The Land’s End theme tune is a wordless, rhythmic piece. It resembles a slow march, with a traditional sounding beat before a low resonating choir comes in. Tobias Weatherburn speaks in a slow, low voice: Land’s End, A Shepherd’s Tale, episode 1 ‘Cabin’. A high choir follows, adding a somewhat mournful melody, with mysterious electronic bleeps playing with the melody and rhythm. It builds to a crescendo, and then fades out on the bleeps.]

 

SCENE 2

 

[We’re back on the mountain, the sheep are calm.]

 

Shepherd, internal: The sun is already low in the sky and the sheep have barely eaten today. They are restless, not nervous per se but unsettled, as if the meadow we walk every evening is new to them. But where normally fresh pastures would have them wander with their faces firmly to the ground, to the food, the herd keeps twisting its way through our usual circle around the mountain top. As if they are chasing something, but never finding it. The sunset is blistering, even at this late hour I am sweating climbing up and down, up and down again with the sheep. There is only so much guiding and turning you can do with a herd before they just keep running, and I want them to be calm enough to eat. That is our duty: to make sure the sheep eat. 8 hours of eating, 8 hours of ruminating, 8 hours of sleep. That’s the plan, at least, and things don’t usually go to plan. 

 

[A sheep approaches, her bell jingling as she bleats at the shepherd.]

 

Shepherd: Hey Una, look at you. Covered in blood, c’mere. 

 

[The shepherd takes out a cloth out of a zipped pocket, starts cleaning her mouth.]

 

Shpeherd: You always have to stick your nose everywhere don’t you? Curious beast. 

 

[Una sneezes. The shepherd yelps.]

 

Shepherd: Ouch! Yeesh, it’s like you’ve got canines in there. Careful with those teeth eh?

 

Shepherd, internally: When I grab her snout my thumb leaves blood marks on Una’s snout, mixing my bright red with the dark red already there. I grip Una’s face and stick my finger in her mouth to get her to open her jaws. 

 

[Una struggles against the shepherd’s grasp, trying to get free]

 

Shepherd, internally: Sheep are ruminants, they eat a lot and they chew even more. If a sheep has problems with its teeth or mouth, it is a dead sheep walking. But Una’s teeth don’t look damaged, they look sharp. It’s hard to tell while she’s moving so much, but glinting back at me from inside her mouth appear to be the usual molars and two long, sharp canines unlike anything I’ve ever seen. 

 

[Una wrestles free.]

 

Shepherd: Una, stop, stay still, grwaah…

 

[Una bounces off, her bell sounding softer as she gets further away. The shepherd sighs in annoyance and confusion.]

 

SCENE 3

 

[We’re in the shepherd’s hut. Alma is sleeping, gently breathing and dreaming. The shepherd pours a tea, then gets in bed. Alma yawns expectantly.]

 

Shepherd: C’mon Alma, get in.

 

[Alma jumps on the bed, settles in, the shepherd opens a book to read. A sudden loud knock at the door, Alma growls loud.]

 

Shepherd: Alma, quiet. For fuck’s sake. 

 

[The shepherd walks over, opens the door.]

 

Police: Are you the shepherd?

 

Shepherd: Yes

 

Police: We would like to ask some more questions

 

Shepherd; I already answered all your questions last week

 

Police: Sir, early autopsy results showed the woman you found was murdered. We identified the victim. She was a part of the group of protesters that’s been staying nearby in the past few weeks. We heard you had an encounter with them?

 

Shepherd: I… They came too close to the herd. I told them to get lost. 

 

Police: Did you threaten them?

 

Shepherd: No! I did not. I warned them about the patous, told them to be careful. The patous aren’t my dogs, and they’re mostly feral, I don’t own them or train them. They’re bonded to the herd, and their only job is to protect the herd. All I can do is tell people to keep their distance.

 

Police: I see. We need to see where you found the body

 

Shepherd: You lot were there all day last week taking photos and whatnot. The sheep are sleeping. They need to rest. 

 

Police: It wasn’t a question, sir

 

Shepherd: Well go in there then. It’s not my land anyway, I can’t give you permission.

 

[He tries to close the door, but the police officers stops it from closing with his foor.]

 

Police: Yes, well… the dogs…

 

[The shepherd grunts, grabs a coat, closes the door behind him.]

 

SCENE 4

 

[We’re out in the fields with the herd. Bugs chirp, signalling the end of a hot summer day. The herd is sounding slower, a little more threatening. The shepherd walks with the sheep.]

 

Shepherd, internal: Death is not uncommon in a shepherd’s life. Sheep are sensitive to all sorts of illnesses and infections, and of course we live with the everpresent threat of the wolf in our lands. I have lost many sheep to many different deaths, and although death itself does not faze me, I still hold life sacred. Each sheep is a life I held dearly, cared for, set out to protect. Death is often ugly, sometimes scary, and always shocking. It is also a logistical problem. When a sheep dies, I alert the owner of the herd. If the wolf is involved, someone has to come out and record the death officially so that the owner can be compensated. Of course as shepherds, the ones who witness and handle death, we are expected to treat it as part of the job. Our loss is not measured in anything, let alone compensated, even if it is our emotional conection to the sheep that makes us good at our job. The stress of frequent wolf attacks is not something we are meant to speak of, not openly. I sometimes wonder whether the stoic shepherd is a stereotype based on our propensity to enjoy our peace and quiet, or an idealistic version of an employee who doesn’t complain, doesn’t show emotion, regardless of the circumstances of their existence. 

 

[The shepherd is quiet, and listens to the bells. They are quieter than usual; not further away, just less of them.]

 

Shepherd, internal: I’ve been suspicious all day that a group of sheep has wandered off. I haven’t been able to spot Ronja, and when she goes on an adventure she always takes the usual suspects with her. I’m hoping we’ll find them when we begin our return to the park.

 

[He’s quiet a little longer, until a dog starts barking in the background.]

 

Shepherd: Tara! Leave her alone!

 

Shepherd, internal: I swear the sheep are behaving so out of character. Running off without reason. Attacking the patous. I thought I saw one chase after a bird earlier. I feel like I’m going mad, but something is off. As if the hill we’re on has turned by a few degrees, the world is slightly askew.

 

[He sighs.]

 

Shepherd, internal: I’m just stressed, the herd is stressed. It’s been a strange week.

 

Shepherd: Alright ladies! Let’s turn around and start heading back. Yip! Yip yip! Alma, behind!

 

[We hear the herd awaken, sheep turning and walking off, not too stressed but with a bit more of a pace than before. Some yapping from Alma. A melancholic tune starts playing.]

 

Shepherd: There we go, that’s it. Alma, enough! Easy ladies, gentle. And look who it is!

 

[Ronja’s bell sounds in the distance, slowly gets closer, then joins the chorus of the herd.]

 

Shepherd: Where have you been all day Ronja? What did you get up to? 

 

[Everything quiets down behind the shepherd.]

 

Shepherd, with intense emotion: Oh… no.

 

[The shepherd’s footsteps stop, the herd fades out and we’re left with the melancholic tune.]

 

Shepherd, internally: Death is common in a shepherd’s life, it is life that is special. When I see the first malformed lamb fetus, bloody, fresh, and laying dead in the lower meadow, I dread having to tell Sabine, and berate myself for thinking of practicalities first. But then there is the second, a small and bloody pile of indistinguishable flesh and bones. And the third. And further in the distance there are more, an uncountable tragedy unfolding across the grass that I am forced to bear witness to.

 

[The shepherd whimpers, cries.]

 

Shepherd: Oh god, oh god… 

 

[The shepherd is sobbing, as if he is having a mild panic attack. Slowly, tune fades, and the sounds of the herd return louder, the bells, the hooves, the dogs. The shepherd then collects himself, slowly. A deep breath.]

 

Shepherd, internal: I take my blanket out of my backpack and lay it over the closest lamb. I try to gently fold the blanket underneath the tiny body, and without spilling blood or breaking its bones, pick it up. I carry the body in front of me, arms outstretched, as the herd and I walk solemnly back to the park in the fading sunlight. The patous don’t make a sound, the sheep don’t put a hoof in the wrong direction. We are a funeral procession tonight, as we return to the park. I close the fence behind us and head to the tree, no longer cordoned off with unnaturally bright tape, and lay the blanket down besides it. With my bare hands, I start digging. Alma tries to help, and though I know, I know she is a dog and does not understand, it is impossible not to find solace in her aid. When we have dug deep enough, I lay the lamb to rest. I flinch when the first patch of dirt touches the wet skin of the fetus. There is something visceral about these textures that should not yet have met, but do. A second handful of dirt, then the rest of the pile. Then nothing.

 

[The shepherd cries out, the herd comes to rest in the park. The final notes of the tune take over and fade out.]

 

SCENE 5

[The opening tone of a voicenote. Everything is coming through the phone, sounding a bit distant and static-y. The herd is rowdy, bells are loud, hooves are heavy, lots of blearing and dogs barking aggressively.]

 

Shepherd: Bonjour Claire! Ca va? Yes we’re doing okay here, things seem to have settled down after… ALMA!!! I said right! Stop, come here! [Muttering] I swear to god this dog… MILO! Why?!-

 

[Voicenote ends. Another voicenote starts.]

 

Shepherd: Sorry about that, it’s been a strange time. It feels like the herd hasn’t settled back in at all after the stress of the past few weeks. Did I tell you we had a dozen or so sheep abort last week? No signs of infection or any other cause, so it was probably just the stress from everything. Oh one sec…

 

Shepherd: Milo! Tara! Stop it!

 

[Voicenote ends. Another voicenote starts.]

 

Shepherd: Anyway,  it’s like everyday has been chaos since. The herd just won’t settle. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Their behaviour is so… strange. Deranged. Sometimes I feel like… 

 

[Awkward silence.]

 

Shepherd: Sometimes I feel like they’re changing, like their behaviour is changing from being sheep to being… something else. Have you ever… have you ever heard of something like that? Yesterday one of them ate a bird. Like actually caught and ate a bird, before I could chase her away from it. That’s strange, right? Beyond the realm of normal strange? I’m sorry, I just don’t really know who to ask about this. I’m doing fine, I promise, I’m just… I just want to make sure the sheep are okay.

 

[End of voicenote. Start of voicenote, to someone new.]

 

Shepherd: Hoi Yeva! Hoe gaat het daar? I know we haven’t spoken in a bit, I hope your sheep are doing well. I have a weird question, have you ever encountered or heard of sheep becoming… aggressive? Displaying more predatory behaviour? Like, any old tales or something? Anyway, hope you’re well. Err… bye.

 

[End of voicenote. Start of voicenote, to someone new.]

 

Shepherd: Eliot! How are you doing bud? Hey, quick question, do you know any tales about altered sheep behaviour? A herd becoming more predator than prey? Anything like that? Just doing some research… Anyway, hope you’re alright man!

 

[Voicenote ends, our soundscape changes to be more lifelike rather than through the phone. The herd is still going a bit wild, though less than before. Alma is whining.]

 

Shepherd: I know baby, I’m sorry, I know I’m not doing my job very well. I just need a minute.

 

[A voicenote comes in.]

 

Claire: Ouiah salut, eh no, j’ai jamais entendu de parler de ça, j’avoue que c’est vraiment étrange. Et toi, comment ça va? Bon, si des fois tu as besoin de quelque chose, tu me dis, eh? Allé bisous!

 

[Voicenote ends, another comes in.]

 

Yeva: Hey hallo! Om je nog te antwoorden, nee, ik heb daar echt nog nooit van gehoord. En het klinkt wel heel erg vreemd! Dus ik zal ook een beetje rondvragen en dan hou ik je daarvan op de hoogte. En laat je ook weten of ik wat voor jou kan doen? Want ja, je klinkt echt niet goed. Ik maak me een beetje zorgen, maar ik hoop dat je weet dat we er voor je zijn. Tot snel!

 

[Voicenote ends, another comes in.]

 

Eliot: Hey man! [Awkward laugh] that’s a strange question, I can’t say I have an answer for you right now. Just stay well okay, don’t do anything silly while you’re up there. We’re moving your sheep to a new mountain tomorrow right? I’ll see you there. 

 

SCENE 6

[A big herd of sheep is walking on tarmac.]

 

Sabine [yelling]: Keep them steady! Watch out for the road on the left!

 

Shepherd: Alma, left!

 

[Alma runs off, we hear bells and sheep bleating in response. There’s other shepherds and dogs around too.]

 

Shepherd: Good girl, that’s enough!

 

[The next bit of dialogue is overheard somewhat in the distance]

 

Villager: Sabine! Ça va? How lovely to see you with the sheep again!

 

Sabine: Oh, it’s a delight to pass through the village on our way to the new fields Alex. Though not everyone is so happy to have us block the roads!

 

[A loud car honks behind the herd.]

 

Sabine: Let’s get them on to the parking lot coming up to let the cars pass! Elliot!

 

Elliot: Yes ma’am! 

 

[Elliot’s dog barks as the herd settles into the parking lot and the shepherds gather.]

 

Sabine: Alright, I’ll take the front for a bit, we have Sam and Claire on the side so why don’t you two take the back for the last section? 

 

Shepherd: Sounds good.

 

[The herd gets going again. Elliot runs over to the shepherd.]

 

Elliot: How are you my friend? How have things been?

 

Shepherd: A loaded question Elliot!

 

Elliot: Well, I would be lying if I said there hasn’t been any concern for you, but it is all out of love.

 

Shepherd: At least I can trust you to speak to my face, instead of my back!

 

Elliot: I may be a gossip, but I’m an honest one! 

 

[When Elliot speaks again he is speaking a little lower.]

 

Elliot: But jokes aside, the concern is genuine. Are the sheep holding up okay?

 

Shepherd: Eh, we’re fine. All just somewhat shaken up by the ongoing events, that’s all. Moving to fresh fields should help shake off the scent of the cops, and the memory of what was lost there.

 

Elliot: Look, I didn’t want to say this over the phone- you’ll understand. But if you want to find out more about, you know, the things you were talking about, my friend Moira- do you know Moira?

 

[Shepherd makes an affirming sound]

 

Elliot: She had a visit last summer from a guy, some academic, who helped her out a lot with her herd when it was going through… something. I’ll ask her to give you his contact details.

 

Sabine, yelling: Elliot! The right! Get them back!

 

Elliot: Hera, to the right! Go!

 

Shepherd: Thank you, Elliot!

 

Elliot: Don’t mention it!

 

[The theme tune outro plays.]