Transcript created: 10th August 2025

Last updated: 11th August 2025

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SCENE 1

 

[An alarm clock goes off, the shepherd grunts, turns it off.]

 

Scientist: Mornin’.

 

Shepherd: Mornin’.

 

[Alma tiptoes over, jumps on the bed, yawns.]

 

Shepherd: Ooft Alma, good morning, yes yes okay, there’s no space for you girl, ouch ooh.

 

[Alma steps all over the shepherd in her excitement that they’re awake. The scientist laughs.]

 

Scientist: I’m sorry I took your spot Alma.

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Shepherd: Alright, off the bed with you.

 

[The shepherd pushes Alma off the bed, then they lay back down.]

 

Scientist: So… what are we gonna do today?

 

[The shepherd is quiet for a bit too long. A clock ticks.]

 

Shepherd: I need to take out the sheep.

 

[The shepherd throws the blankets off, jumps out of bed, puts on the kettle.]

 

Scientist: Yes, of course.

 

[A clock ticks. The kettle starts whistling.]

 

Scientist: The sunset is magnificent from here.

 

Shepherd: Yeah, it’s quite something.

 

[Cups get poured, sugar stirred into coffee. The silence is a bit awkward. The shepherd clears his throat.]

 

Shepherd: Time to go.

 

[He gets up from his chair, the door swings open and then shut.]

 

Shepherd: Morning ladies! Time to get up, yep, you too Ronja.

 

[The herd starts moving, we hear the sheep and the dogs.]

 

Shepherd: ALMA! Stop that! Get back here! No! Oh for fucks sake. What’s gotten into you?! What’s gotten into you this morning girls? Alma go right! Go go go! NO- 

 

[The shepherd grunts frustratedly.]

 

Shepherd: Can you PLEASE stay behind me?

 

Scientist: I’m sorry, I didn’t see… I…

 

Shepherd: Just stay back.

 

[The chaos continues, we hear birds cawing in the distance.]

 

Shepherd: This isn’t working today. I think it’s best you go. Do you have what you need?

 

Scientist: Oh, right

 

[Painful silence. The herd is sounding ominous in the background, low and slow.]

 

Scientist: Well, call me if anything changes.

 

Shepherd: Yeah, you too

 

Scientist: Alright.

 

[The shepherd grunts lowly.]

 

THEME TUNE

SCENE 2

 

[The sheep are calm, the dogs are calm. Birds whistle. Eventually, the shepherd grunts as he gets up.]

 

Shepherd [internal]: I never tire of the sunsets on this mountain. 

 

[The shepherd walks with heavy footsteps. We hear now that his grunting accompanies his breathing, like an involuntary deep noise. He sits down at a different spot.]

 

Shepherd [internal]: Many people leave footsteps on this mountain. Wander up and down for a day, or set up camp here for the night. Some want to claim they have conquered or somehow become victor over nature. They bring noise and chaos, sometimes trash, always scars on the land. Even the most careful wanderer still leaves their mark. That is okay: we are not ghost walkers, each of us is a smudge on this world in the way the earth is a painting, and we are paint, we and every other creature, plant, and aspect of this earth. I do not mind the walkers and their pace, they are allowed their enjoyment of this mountain as much as I am, as much as the sheep, the birds, even the wolf. But it is easy to pass through a place, pass over a mountain or along a valley, and never look back. To be a temporary presence and think yourself not responsible for the longevity of the ground you leave footprints on. I am but a visitor too, with the sheep, we are here for a season alone. Transient. Always changing place, and herd, and mountain. Come autumn we will descend again, graze the lower pastures, and who knows what fields I will wander with what herd next year. It isn’t up to me. I go where I am needed. 

 

[The shepherd’s melody plays behind him, slowed down. As he speaks, the herd arrives near him, slow and monstrous in tone. The shepherd breathes heavy, deep, grunting, as he speaks.]

 

Shepherd [internal]: My chest is covered in a bruise that is blooming outward from my heart and where it’s healing, it’s growing a tough callous on my skin. My nails have started falling out, replaced by a stronger, horn-like growth. My teeth ache like they want to split open and reveal something more sinister underneath. There is a constant taste of iron underneath my tongue.

 

[The shepherd gurgles and spits.]

 

Shepherd [internal: I go where I am needed. And right now, my herd needs me. This land needs me. No one else cares. 

 

[A sheep bleats from the distance, slow, heavy, another responds.]

 

Shepherd [internal]: All is as it should be.

 

[The sheep start trotting around, encircling the shepherd first slowly, then fast, just like before, but it doesn’t sound threatening this time. It’s hopeful. When the shepherd speaks out loud, he sounds as if he speaks with two voices, one from his chest and one from somewhere deeper.]

 

Shepherd: I’m ready. I’m here for you. I can be what you need.

 

[The shepherd yells in a deep, chesty voice, like he’s chasing the sheep up even more, heightening the excitement. The dogs bark loudly and run along too, crying out. The shepherd is laughing, running through the grass. We hear clothes tear. The sheep start slowing down, the shepherd is breathing heavily, until the calm returns. All is as it should be.]
 

SCENE 3

 

[The sheep are on the move, it’s later in the night. They walk steadily and easily into the park. A car door slams shut.]

 

Sabine: Shepherd! I see the calm has returned.

 

[When he speaks, the shepherd sounds like himself from before again.]

 

Shepherd: Aye, you’ll be glad to see the sheep, they’re looking healthy.

 

Sabine: Despite the storm last week?

 

Shepherd: They’re thriving on whatever the mountain has to offer.

 

Sabine: It’s like they know, eh?

 

Shepherd: Know what?

 

Sabine: That all this has been resolved.

 

Shepherd: Resolved?

 

Sabine: They arrested the guy who bought the land. 

 

Shepherd: I heard.

 

Sabine: Said there was an altercation, an accident… The poor woman paid for with her life.

 

[She spits on the ground in disgust.] 

 

Sabine: We know these bastards though.

 

Shepherd: Does that not mean your contracts are in danger? Will you lose the land?

 

Sabine: The way I see it, with that guy going into a long trial, there’ll be no one to revoke our contract. No one to benefit from the land being enclosed and closed off. And besides, the fields need grazed, or they’ll become unmanageable over time.

 

Shepherd: A life seems like a high price to pay to resolve this conflict

 

Sabine: I don’t think anyone is happy about this outcome. But the young lady was fighting for access to the land. It’s a small consolation, but a consolation nonetheless, that her dying wish might be honoured.

 

Shepherd: A martyr, then? You think she’ll be remembered?

 

Sabine: It is a legacy, if a dark one.

 

Shepherd: Then I’ll tell of Meadow and the mountain.

 

Sabine: And speaking of tales…

 

[Her voice goes hushed.] 

 

Sabine: I know things have been strange up here. You aren’t the first shepherd to… change. We’ve all heard the stories. Sometimes these things happen. Just know I won’t try to separate you from the herd until you’re ready. It’s been tried before, and it didn’t go well. 

 

[She clears her throat] 

 

Sabine: We can discuss a contract for the winter later.

 

 [A short silence.]

 

Shepherd: Thank you, Sabine

 

Sabine: I’ll leave you to it. I’ve left you a fresh tank of water, and there’s bread in the hut. Good work out here, I appreciate it.

 

Shepherd: Whatever the sheep need.

 

Sabine: Yeah, yeah, I know. See ya next week!

 

Shepherd: Bye.

 

[A car door slams, She drives off. The shepherd is alone with the sheep quietly in their park. He enters the hut, takes off his shoes. Alma drinks from her bowl and shakes off the dust. The shepherd breaks off a piece of bread and eats it.]

 

Shepherd: And some for you, Alma

 

[Alma greedily eats the bread. The shepherd picks up his phone]

 

Shepherd: [Start of a voicenote] Hey, it’s, uh, me. I’m sorry for last week. This is a weird time for me, but to be honest even in good times I’m not good with people. That doesn’t mean I get to be hurtful though. You were very kind to me, and I appreciated your, eh, company, very much. It’s better this way. I needed to make right with the sheep. And you need to be telling the world about itself. Thank you. Eh, yeah. That’s all. [Voicenote ends]

 

[We hear the shepherd undress. Fingers scraping over tough skin, the shepherd examines himself.]

 

Shepherd, internally: It’s spreading.

 

Shepherd: And you, Alma, are you still the same?

 

[We hear Alma jump on the bed, curl up, yawn]

 

Shepherd: [gently laughs] Goodnight, Alma

 

[A distinct bell echoes from the herd. A haunted bleat.]

 

Shepherd: And goodnight to you, Ronja.

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SCENE 4
[The herd is calm but monstrous. When the shepherd speaks, he does so with his echoing voice, his transformation much further along than last we heard him. A slow melody plays.]

Shepherd [internal]: The first lamb was born yesterday. Only a third of the herd carried to term, but life finds a way. She is all kinds of wrong, with sharp teeth and bow-legged claws, and eyes that view the world differently. Sabine normally comes to take the new lambs and their mothers down from the mountain because they can’t keep up with the herd, but this little one doesn’t struggle. And regardless, we’ll be moving the sheep to lower pastures in a week anyway. The heat of summer lingers, but the dry land is showing signs of the season’s change. It hasn’t rained since the big storm, and the pastures carry little food for my herd. Isaac says… Isaac says the sheep might revert back once they are on different lands. But it doesn’t matter. I will be with them however they exist. He doesn’t say he hopes I might change back too, but I can tell he would like to see me regardless. I don’t think he understands how much I’ve changed. I don’t think anyone does. But the time comes when we must return from the mountain, return to the world that is waiting below, and the people that await us with arms open. It is not that I am ungrateful for his warm heart. It is that mine has slowed to a beat that could sustain no human, and that my skin has grown tough so that I no longer feel cold, and that my eyes see the world differently- like I see the world with a different focus. 

[He stops as the herd slows.]

Shepherd: The sheep have done good work on the mountain this summer.

[He sits down with a grunt, his hand brushing through the dry grass. His hand touches something surprising, he picks it up and flicks it open. The shepherd laughs to himself]

Shepherd: A previous shepherd must have left this here, before me. It’s the exact same as the knife I carry, but much older, and weathered by years of waiting in the elements for me to pick it up. It isn’t rare to find items lost by previous shepherds. We tend to read the land the same, steer the sheep in the same patterns, rest in the same spots when the sheep are calm. It connects us through generations of shepherds. I take pride in knowing my work is part of a continuum, that the impact of our time in this mountain is measured in decades, not just a summer. I am never alone with the ghost of other herds, other shepherds wandering this mountain alongside me, only separated by the unidirectionality of time itself. I don’t care to be remembered, though I hope anyone who visits this mountain, any mountain or field, remembers the work done to allow us to access those places. Whether the sheep who clear the land each year to ensure it does not get overgrown, or the people who tear down fences and plant footsteps that create the path to our rights. Do not remember me. Remember Meadow. Remember the everlasting mountain, remember the tireless work, remember the time and effort it takes to love this world right. Remember to love this world right.