#alasdair ashe

[inkcoffinz]

Hi, I saw that you think England's canon personality is boring. I agree and I've actually added more to my rendition of his character, is there any changes you made yourself to yours?

I don’t know if “changes” is the right word because I’ve kept a lot of the similar characteristics- I think what bugs me is that we don’t really have any reason for *why* England is written the way he is other than just being a basic tsundere trope. I do think Arthur is borderline rude and dismissive yet also clingy, but there’s reasoning to me for why he’s like that. Arthur is a dude who I think struggles with a lot of self esteem issues- something that ends up presenting himself in a better-than-thou attitude as a way to sort of convince himself that he is the great nation he wants so badly to be.

A lot of how I think about Arthur and his characteristics really comes down and is centered around two key aspects of his being: his desire for acceptance and his desire of other’s respect. Almost everything he does comes back to those two things.

He was raised as a nobody with nothing but the ashes of the Roman Empire, different Anglo-Saxon kingdoms fighting for control and powers greater than his dictating what he was and what he would be. This gave him, from a young age, the desire for respect, for the attention and acceptance of the other nations. It’s just that unfortunately, as he would grow, what he thought would bring that would be corrupted. Arthur is gullible- he’s easily swayed by promises and he gets easily attached to not just people, but concepts that he has set his mind to. If things don’t go that way, he sees it as a personal attack.

I think Arthur does genuinely care for the people around him- like his adopted brothers (Scotland/alasdair, Wales/Macawn) and his children, and all the humans that he connected with over the years, but the desire that is so heavily sunk into his psyche prevents him from truly forming healthy relationships- because at some point, he has to choose between them and his mission.. and his mission will always win. So, for some, he doesn’t get close. He is rude and mean and purposefully scares people off so he doesn’t risk getting attached.

And as he continues to dig himself deeper and deeper into this pit, the more power he gains and the more people he fucks over is really just having the opposite effect and he can’t understand why. Arthur is ignorant.

He’s ignorant, he’s selfish, he’s human.. and he hates that.

[a-luran]

please talk about scoteng toño my crops are dying and my tea grows cold

Astro noo ;A; yer tea!!! your crops... I am sorry it has been so long. Please take some historical thoughts with my contrition:

---

After the Battle of Otterburn, 1388 AD

-

It is worth less than its waning weight in gold; a waxing sun held in the palm of Alasdair's hand.

"Here," he says and means go. Go south, go home.

Arthur does not move to take it, hands lying limp between his thighs, shoulders splintered under the weight of his coat. He is ash-stained and ashen, the beds of his nails torn and packed with dirt. His knuckles are bruised and split, the wheat-gold of his hair lying limp and muddy, weighed down with sweat and another man's blood. Alasdair is not bearing up much better but at least he is on his feet.

The stench of shit and fear is so thick in the air he'll smell it with every step he takes from here to Stirling.

Arthur stands slowly, like it costs him. For a moment Alasdair thinks his left knee might give, bring him low again, but it holds. He forgets, sometimes, how young Arthur is in the eyes of men. He wonders what they might see in him; if it is anything like the child Alasdair knew before the compulsion to the wills of others made them cruel.

Arthur takes a step, finds his footing, and spits blood on the ground between his feet. Alasdair thinks he might have been aiming for his hand but he can't be sure. Arthur's eyes are dim and slow and it might figure that some of the blood dripping down from his temple is his.

He tries to knock past Alasdair and trips over his own feet when their shoulders meet. Alasdair grabs him by the arm to right him and shoves him forward before Arthur can shake him off. Arthur catches himself against a the ruins of a wall and Alasdair does not know what is worse, the tang of iron in the air or the pit in his chest.

Arthur is sick against the stones, shoulders heaving with the effort, and Alasdair fights the surge of pity in his gut. Arthur pants, coughs, spits again. Alasdair waits it out before reaching for him again, fisting Arthur's cloak with one hand thumping the other against his chest.

Arthur's chin drops to his sternum, an unreadable look on his face. Alasdair hates him, and loves him, and wants to see him gone from this place.

"Arthur." His voice is ragged, hoarse, and barely above a whisper. Speaking Arthur's name is the closest he will ever come to pleading.

He will never know what chit he bargains against Arthur's pride that day but finally, awkwardly, Arthur reaches up to brush his fingers against the back of the fist on his sternum.

Alasdair palms him he coin with halting fingers, hands brushing skin-warm and coarse, and only lets go of Arthur's shoulder when he is sure that he's tucked it away safely. Then he steps away.

Arthur goes without a word, heading south and away. Alasdair lingers, looks west, chasing after the sun and away from the embers that still burn to the east.

It is only long after Arthur has gone and he turns north that he thinks he would have liked to hear the sound of his voice.

[danjaley]

Alasdair: Three horses! Excellent! And real fine ones! I missed the horses we had at home. I loved riding in the park.

Alice: Did you bring three to see which suits you best?

Matthew: No, Ah bough’ a’’ three. It wash a goo’ offer, an’ Ah though’ Ah’d ‘ry my han’ at bree’ing. Ash a shecon’ shource o’ income. ‘he red one ish qui’e a fiery ‘empramen’, Ah coul’ shen’ him ‘o rashesh…

[myfam-myblorbos-mysons]

tags

(Alasdair/Banshee -> alashee)

(Alasdair-Banshee-Idril-Kevin -> cavemates)

August -> august's dance

Banshee -> mushroom fox

(Banshee-Elisiard-Moshi-Nimur-Piers-Radus-Theo-Winifred -> browne family)

Ben -> the lost song

Emma -> queer queen

[Hunting Season -> hs]

Idril -> little guy

Ryu -> blind eye

Maddie -> yellow cape

Martin -> burnt forest

Mia -> bear with mia

[Monster-Hood -> mh]

Piers -> books in ashes

[Whispers of the Past -> wotp]

[shawfae]

( ryan kwanten / 48/175 / he/him ) wait, is that MARKUS SHAW at THE EMERALD LODGE again? i heard through a grapevine, that the AIR leaning fae has been in town for 70 YEARS ( actually only 5 years, ) and currently works as A WAITER AT LE MATHIS. some say he can be ARROGANT and IMMATURE, but i thought he was actually LOYAL and OBSERVANT.

a part of @witchesroad-hq side blog to @lucydelacroix

Myths and tall tales have been passed around for centuries. There were, of course, a fair share of warnings that went with those stories. Mostly told to tourists and those that weren't from the area who were looking for a peaceful place to go for a stroll or set up shop. The warnings were rarely heeded and often times laughed at; Faeries aren't real! But oh, how wrong they were always proved wrong because of course a pair of pointy ears was always lurking nearby.

His parents were both fae, his father Rory having power of the earth and his mother, Fiona, controlling the air. They both came from fae backgrounds, though his father had been born to a human woman ( a grandmother he never knew nor remembered her name ) but had been raised solely as a faerie. Not much had been spoke about either of his parents upbringing, just their own warnings about avoiding humans, witches, and the dark fae.

Markus was the youngest of his siblings and the most devious of them. He was always getting his brother Lachlan into trouble or pinning something on his sister Maisie. But never could he pull Alasdair, their eldest brother into any sort of mischievous fun. And though he brought Fiona and Rory many headaches, they never faulted the young faerie for indulging himself with a bit of fun. They only did as the locals ( some were fae disguised as humans to protect their own kind ) did to handle the tourists; told tall tales and issued warnings.

To some degree, he had listened to those warnings and was cautious of the human world and other magical beings. He didn't go near the sea for he feared being caught by a merfolk. Most his time was spent running through the forests and getting lost in the beauty of nature. But not event he forest was entirely safe for him as he had a nasty encounter with a fire fae that was looking to show Markus the true meaning of mischief and devastation. Even if it had been an accident.

Words and insults were thrown back and forth and soon enough it was fists then fire meeting a tornado. He had not been taught how to fully control the swirling vortex, but that day his pride and ego had got the better of him. And it would forever change the course of his life; the two fae fought and did their best to one up the other. At some point Markus had sustained a nasty burn to his neck and shoulder that would scar ( serving as a harsh reminder ) which caused him to lose further control of a tornado that had grown too quickly.

Before he could realize what was happening, it was too late. The flames from the other fae had been caught by the gusty winds and soon latched onto the only thing around them. Trees went up in flames in no time, burning hot and fast and quickly spreading. There were a few families living amongst the trees as well as his own family, but still to this day he did not know how many of them made it out. But the fate of his family was not kind nor one that he allowed himself to forget.

When he finally made it through the flames to their home, it was reduced to nothing but ash. The only way he knew that his family hadn't survived was because of the bodies. He was the last of the Shaw clan, a young fae of only twenty in human years, and he had not a clue what to do with himself from that moment forward. Of course he had to leave the Isle of Skye, unable to remain there and live amongst the destruction that he had caused, even if it had been accidental.

Markus moved from place to place after that day. Sticking to Europe and remaining hidden in the woods until a little after 1900 where he soon found himself in America. Though he preferred the thick forests and mountains, it wasn't entirely ideal at times so he learned to blend in as a human. It only lasted for a short time before he eventually found himself in the pacific northwest, a rich and lush environment perfect for a fae. He hadn't felt at home in so long until he found his way to Washington, the forests and mountains were ideal and he found comfort in them.

If asked how he discovered Westray, he wouldn't be able to tell you. He felt a pull to the town, but remained hidden, lurking in the shadows and observing. Until one day he met or well, witnessed, another faerie that had a boldness that reminded him of the type he used to have. The older fae, Prometheus Ashfield, intrigued him so he had asked the others that kept to the trees about the other but they had warned him away. Told him the other was nothing but trouble, though they didn't know Markus Shaw. Didn't know that the warnings would be heard, yes, but they would not be taken seriously.

So after lurking about Westray for seventy years, the air fae finally emerged and walked out of the woods. He had forgotten what the human world was like, but soon realized he did not know this particular one anymore. And if it were not for Jessica Campbell entering the town for the first time and running into the true sight that he was ( close to feral would be the best way to describe his state ) he wouldn't have survived the last five years. He's still adjusting, though, and occasionally needs a reminder to blend in, but he's simply existing.

TIMELINE.

1869 — family is killed in accident caused by Markus and a fire leaning fae

1869 to 1910's — spends the majority of his time in Europe, sticking to the hills and countryside

1920's to 1940's — boards a ship set for America where he navigates the south, especially the Appalachian mountains

1950's — finds his way to Washington, once again sticks to the mountains and forests

1954 — comes to Westray, WA, remains in the forests, lurks about town from time to time

1960's to 2019 — keeps to the forests, slowly builds up confidence to enter town, "meets" Prometheus sometime during this time, gets intrigued

2019 to Present — meets Jessica Campbell, befriends her and soon starts working for her at Le Mathis, slowly becoming more acclimated to the human world

BASIC INFO.

Full Name: Markus Shaw

Nickname / Aliases: Mark & Rukus

Age: 48 ( 175 )

Birth Date: 18 June, 1849

Place of Birth: Isle of Skye, Scotland

Gender: Male ( he/him )

Species: Fae ( air leaning )

Orientation: Bisexual/Polyamorous

Occupation: Waiter at Le Mathis

Current Residence: Westray, WA

Spoken Language(s): English, Latin, & Scottish Gaelic

RELATIONS.

Parents: Fiona ( nee Aitken ) † & Rory Shaw †

Siblings: Alasdair †, Maisie †, & Lachlan Shaw †

Significant Other(s): None ( single )

Children: None

PHYSICAL.

Eye Color: Blue

Hair Color: Sandy Blonde

Height: 5'10"

Piercings + Tattoos: Both ears once + none

Scars + Birthmarks: Various ( burn on left side of neck onto shoulder from battle with a fire fae ) + unknown

[jander25br]

M E C H A - YouTube from Ash Thorp on Vimeo.

Growing up with a heavy influence from Japanese animation we felt it was due time to celebrate our love for mecha and pay homage to it in this piece for Youtube. - Director + Design - Ash Thorp Director + Design - Maciej Kuciara 2D Animation - Alasdair Willson Score - Aeph - Client - Youtube Special Thanks - Jason Sao Bento

[roberthoff]

M O D U L A R - YouTube from Ash Thorp on Vimeo.

Modular is an experiment in two dimensional design, showcasing an instrinsic depiction of science and technology.

Client - Youtube

Director + Design - Ash Thorp Animation - Alasdair Willson Score - Aeph Producer - Monica Thorp

Special Thanks - Jason Sao Bento

[cyocun]

FITC Tokyo 2015 Titles from FITC on Vimeo.

Now in its sixth year, FITC Tokyo 2015 consists of presentations from some of the most interesting and engaging digital creators from all around the world. To commemorate FITC Tokyo’s inaugural title sequence we sought to encapsulate the city itself—distilled to graphic form. Aiming to contrast the harmonies of traditional Japanese culture against the backdrop and sensory overload of present-day Tokyo, we meticulously crafted elegant typographic forms to collide with abrasive, overstimulating glitch—giving way to a progressive journey where moments of extreme chaos fold into temporary tranquility.

Credits Director: Ash Thorp Producer: Andrew Hawryluk Art Director: Michael Rigley Type Designer: Nicolas Girard Designers: Ash Thorp, Michael Rigley, Nicolas Girard Type Animators: Nicolas Girard, Alasdair Willson Animators: Michael Rigley, Chris Bjerre, Andrew Hawryluk Computational Artist: Albert Omoss Process Reel Editor: Franck Deron Composer: Pilotpriest

Links Making-of: vimeo.com/118998266

Ash Thorp: ashthorp.com/ Andrew Hawryluk: andrewh.tv/ Michael Rigley: michaelrigley.com/ Nicolas Girard: worship.to/ Alasdair Willson: alasdairwillson.com/ Chris Bjerre: chrisb.tv/ Albert Omoss: albertomoss.com/ Franck Deron: franckderon.net/ Pilotpriest: pilotpriest.bandcamp.com/

[heypetu]

Beardyman ft Joe Rogan - 6am (Ready to Write) from Ian Pons Jewell on Vimeo.

Artist - Beardyman ft. Joe Rogan Label - Sony Music + RCA

CREW

Director - Ian Pons Jewell Executive Producer - Medb Riordan Executive Producer - Simon Cooper Executive Producer - Leah Joyce Founder Radioaktive Film - Darko Skulsky EP Radioaktive Film - Sasha Bevka Commissioner - Elena Argiros Producer - Ash Lockmun Line Producer - Olya Kosenko Director of Photography - Mauro Chiarello Production Designer - Robin Brown Casting Director - Kharmel Cochrane Casting Director - Sergey Ristenko Storyboard Artist - Joseph Strachan Stylist - Staysa Monastyrskaya Location Manager - Dima Mikhailov 1st AD - Gryts Makarenko

Production Manager - Antonia Vickers Production Manager - Julia Sotnikova Production Assistant - Ella Girardot Production Assistant -Volodymyr Altsybeev Directors Assistant - George Daniell Bidding Producer - Georgina Smith Set Runner - Tolik Koval 1st AC - Kirill Shlyamin Steadicam - Max Salo Gaffer - Leo Sidorenko DIT/VTR - Valik Grib aka Mushroom Sound - Dennis Ryskal Art Director - David Kharaishvili Make Up - Marta Skalska Prop Master - Vasya Tkachuk Style Assistant - Dasha Lisyn Style Assistant - Kostya Goncharuk

CAST

Hero Guy - Jack Morris Sofa Guy - Dima Nalivayko Sofa Girl- Vera Koval Girl in Car 1 - Esther Brown Girl in Car 2 - Joana Garcia Guy in Car 1 - Thomas Ngegba Guy in Car 2 - Alex Dubrova Guy in Car 3 - Pasha Gots Work Out Brother 1 - Andrii Ostapenko Work Out Brother 2 - Dmytro Ostapenko Work Out Brother 3 - Yura Ostapenko Coke Devil - Zhenia Skizov Bedroom Girl - Alla Pryadko Pigeon Man - Tsoy Andriy Dandruff Man - Pavel Evchin Screaming Lady - Nina Galena

POST PRODUCTION

Edit - Whitehouse Post Editor - Tobias Suhm Assistant Editor - Steven Waltham Producer - Antonia Porter Executive Producer - Annabel Bennett Post Production - Electric Theatre Collective Producer - Alasdair Patrick, Sam Napper Creative Director - James Sindle  Colourist - Luke Morrison CG Coordinator - Larisa Covaciu Sound Design - Tim Harrison & Seb Bruen at Aumeta Additional Sound Design - Jim Stewart & Lawrence Kendrick at String & Tins 2D Lead - Alex Grey  2D Artists - Adam Woolrich, Adrian Monroy 2D Artists - Alberto Pizzocchero, Alex Kennedy

2D Artists - CJ Gaikwad, Daniel Manning 2D Artists -Nicola Borsari, Ozgur Taparli 2D Artists - Flavio Kawamoto, Ryan Knowles, Stirling Archibald 3D Lead - Nick Turner  3D Artists - Alex Berweck, Dean Robinson, Elpida Kyriacou 3D Artists - Jake Cross, Jeffery Edo-Benson, Marko Mamula 3D Artists - Paul Cousins, Robert Reinschedl, Sergio Moralez 3D Artists - Roly Edwards, Thanos Kousis, Will Preston 3D Artists - James Waterhouse, Felix Chan, George Savvas 3D Artists - Stuart Whelbourn, Tobin Brett, Stuart Turnbull 3D Artists - Eddy Martinez, Adam Ledger, Florian Mounie 3D Artists - Ivan Xavier, Karin Mattson, Mack Knights 3D Artists - Jon Park, Remy Herrise, Toby Williams Ellis Rigger - Greg Martin Concept Artist - Romain Thirion

SPECIAL THANKS TO

Reset Content Jon Adams

[mr-leach]

Curse of Strahd Ask Meme Part 8

Previous post | First post | Original post by @mandisawesome​

Question 8: How did your first meeting with Strahd go?

A lot of stuff happened during the party’s first meeting of Strahd...how would I sum up how it went...?

Well...

...IT WENT BAD.

...for the party, of course. We, the players, had an absolute blast. 

If you couldn’t tell already, Strahd invited us all to attend a masquerade ball at the castle. Alasdair, our highest WIS character, managed to get charmed and then later bitten on the dance floor. Cinaed made a very ill-advised lunge at the host and nearly had himself made an example of. Dorian picked an interesting time to grow a backbone and instantly regretted it. And Sy had a “hell” of a fade to black followed by a humiliating and challenging walk of shame back to the party’s accommodations in Ravenloft’s tower. Then, that night, Strahd used the dream spell to mess with everyone even further--you know, just for fun. It was great.

[present-future]

MECHA - YOUTUBE by Maciej Kuciara

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=77lwl48Z4as

[danjaley]

Eppie: This is the poor boy who…

Alasdair: I’m not poor! My father owns four houses, twelve carriages and sixty-five horses – only counting the good ones!

Eppie: He’s referring to the Duke of —, of course.

Matthew: ‘erhapsh we’re related af’er all. I hay being in’roduced ash “‘oor Fergush’ ‘oor shon”.

[panzertron]

M E C H A

Director + Design -- Maciej Kuciara & Ash Thorp 2D Animation -- Alasdair Willson Score -- Aeph

[scotianostra]

On 24th August 1947 the first Edinburgh International Festival (EIF) of Music and Drama opened.

Rudolf Bing, an Austrian impresario who had fled Nazi Germany, wanted to create an international festival in the UK. After various searches Edinburgh was proposed by Henry Harvey Wood of the British Council, supported by both Sir John Falconer, the city’s Lord Provost, and Lady Rosebery. In 1945 a festival committee was formed which decided that 1947 would be the earliest possible date - and that the Festival would be a chance for Edinburgh to create a new post-war identity as ‘the cultural resort of Europe’.

The first Edinburgh International Festival began on 24 August 1947, with an aim to ‘provide a platform for the flowering of the human spirit’ by bringing people and artists together from around the world. One of the highlights of the first year’s programme was the reuniting of conductor Bruno Walter with the Vienna Philharmonic and Walter’s comments set the seal on the future – ‘What you have done in Edinburgh is one of the most magnificent experiences since the war. Here human relations have been renewed.’

The “Festival” as it simply known in Edinburgh is now the world’s biggest arts festival, in over 300 venues, thousands of shows from around the world entertain people from, well around the world too, it is said the population of my hometown more than doubles at Festival time.

It’s not all comedy, and theatre, there are now many aspects to the festival, first you have the Edinburgh International Festival of Music and Drama, that’s the one that started on this day 73 years ago, it’s the professionals who get paid for being on stage in what ever guise they don, the thing was at the beginning it was invite only, and only eight companies were invited, so some set up their own shows, hoping to not just entertain, but hopefully earn a few quid in the process, this took the name The Fringe, it was been so successful it soon became bigger than the “Official” Festival and over the years most acts just wanted to be in Edinburgh, any chance of earning a crust went out the window, many performers save up all year just to come to Edinburgh and appear, sometimes in front of only a handful of people, if you’re lucky!

There was no real organisation during the first years of The Fringe, it wasn’t until 1951 when the sign of any communal activity occurred in 1951 when Edinburgh University students opened a drop-in centre at 25 Haddington Place. This was used by many Fringe performers as it provided cheap food and a bed for the night, oh to be able to find a cheap bed nowadays!

It was 1954 before Fringe groups held their first meeting to discuss the possibility of working together. “We are cutting each other’s throats” was a quote from one of the groups.  It was the logistics, the non-performance aspects, that they saw as a problem and the establishment of a joint box office and publicity mechanism were given high priority. The first Fringe programme was produced in this year by C. J. Cousland, an Edinburgh printer, as seen in the second pic. The Fringe now outstrips the EIF by an insurmountable amount, but as I said earlier most shows struggle to make a profit.

Eventually, the Festival Fringe Society was set up in 1959. A constitution was drawn up, stating that elected officers should oversee the running of a box office, produce a programme brochure that would include every event that was not on the International Festival, and run a club where performers could meet, eat, drink until late, and generally feel involved.

This post is, like the Fringe, getting to large, I like to keep them short so having covered the main two, here is a quick run through of the rest of the Festival, as we know it now.

Pipes and dancing took place on the Castle Esplanade, and in Princes Street Gardens, from 1947, the year of the first International Festival. It was eventually superseded by The Edinburgh Military Tattoo in 1950. Under the direction of Brigadier Alasdair Maclean, there were eight items in the first programme.  There were no stands in that first year, the audience watching from the side of the Esplanade. Stands were erected from the following year, growing to its current size when it houses an audience of around 9,000.

The Edinburgh Art Festival is a fixture in the International Festival programme, the early 1950s arguably being the golden period.  However, funds were withdrawn in 1973 and the visual arts were relegated to “associates”, i.e. linked to but not directly part of the International Festival.  In more recent years the associate tag gradually disappeared and it began to rely on The Fringe programme to provide external advertising of its wares. Most Edinburgh folk will remember the Ingenious  Campbell soup cladding on the pillars of the Scottish Royal Academy for the Andy Warhol exhibition in 2007, it’s certainly my most memorable memory of the Arts Festival.

The Jazz & Blues Festival is a 10 day festival, spread over a dozen venues, which spans late July and early August. It began in August 1979 at the Adelphi Ballroom, Abbeyhill, which had a capacity of 500, and it was held over a single weekend. Like all the festivals it has grown over the years and for a short time they had “Jazz on a Summer’s Day” which attracted a bigger crowd than any other single jazz event in the UK, it was held in Princes Street Gardens, but the commercial folk that run things in Edinburgh basically fucked things up by allowing a Spiegeltent event to take over the space in the gardens in 2010 and that aspect of it has not returned since, which is a shame.

Edinburgh International Book Festival was first held in 1983 and was an instant success with 120 authors attending, including John Updike and Anthony Burgess. The 17 day festival is now  sited in Charlotte Square Gardens, at the western end of George Street, converting it into a tented village for the duration. The 2016 festival, with an attendance of circa 230,000, boasted of appearances by over 800 authors, poets, illustrators, journalists and politicians from 55 countries.

So there you have it,  small beginnings from the ashes of world war two, I thought that things would be back to normal this year, after last years cancellation, but it is a curtailed Festival this year, I only managed to get across once, the place isn’t the same without the full thing, hopefully next year we will all get back to a more normal, normal. 

[swordoaths]

@rossefinch wrote:  “ we’re not giving up. ” ( briar to alasdair )

    Alasdair had come ‘round the corner of what had once been a farmstead. Smoke singed his lungs as he drew a breath, a visceral reminder of what his eyes beheld. The frames of four walls reduced to ashes by the hands of those who had no right to be here.

     Even with all his years, the pain of being too late never eased.

    “I wouldna dream of it,” he started, eyes already tracking the footsteps that led north. “Th’brankie lads’ll not get far afore makin’ camp. They dinnae know the land, an’ keep nae stock in th’stars.” Slinging his shield across broad shoulders, Alasdair turned his gaze to Briar. “But I can track ‘em at night. They head north with wounded.” His finger pointed to the drag marks in the mud. “If we leave now, we’ll catch ‘em afore long.”