Spoiler Alert!
Listen, kittens.
LISTEN.
As much as I rail against the very concept, it is a sad fact that I will one day leave this world.
As a human, I must live with the certainty of death, but with the uncertainty of how death will be delivered.
This leads to semi-regular contemplation of the various mortal portals that might open up to swallow me.
As a devourer of true crime podcasts, might I fall victim to a serial killer?
As a person working in the arts, might I suffer a fatal heart attack brought by a bad review?
As an incredibly clumsy person, might I get taken out by an uneven surface?
None of these are particularly appealing.
Let me speak in earnest then and tell you that rocketing to the top of the deadly dispatch wish list is BEING CRUSHED UNDERFOOT BY A RAMPAGING DRAGON.
Not only was the miserable Sea Snake soldier featured in the first few minutes of this week’s episode spared a slow and gruesome death at the hand of carnivorous crabs, he also went out in the service of COMEDY. That was simultaneously the most intense and most hilarious death in the greater Game of Thrones universe.
Let’s face it, Sea Snake dude’s last moments weren’t looking good.
There he was, part of yet another crew of yet another Velaryon ship grounded and torched in the Stepstones, having nails driven through his hands and crabs shoved up his wotsits. He wasn’t long for the world, and no amount of “f**k your whore mother and bastard father” curses was going to ease that passage.
But then, WHOOSH, fire lights up the sky and there is Prince Daemon on dragonback, tearing through the gross rebels like Vaseline would tear through their collective eczema if only there was a Chemist Warehouse on Bloodstone.
Filled with hope and joy at the prospect of fiery airborne salvation, Sea Snake dude yells at Daemon to come and save him and SQUASH. Gone.
Sure, it’s a metaphor for the impressive yet not-foolproof power of dragons, the napalm-spewing Super Sabres of their day. Sure, they can burn like menthol-tinged body wash in your nethers, but you’re going to have to deal with some friendly fire.
Still, Sea Snake dude did have a moment of pure ecstasy before his squishy end, and at least he died quickly. If I can guarantee that for my shuffle off, I will be happy to die at the foot of any raging dragon.
And so to the greater question of this episode, third of its season, “Second of his Name”.
When we deal with challenges in life, whether they be simple family quarrels, or life or death matters, how do we choose to handle them? Do we act with force, or compassion? Do we make bold moves, or subtle ones? Do we act like the hunter, or the prey?
Jump to the left and step to the right, kittens, because we start with a time warp, again.
Three years since Viserys stunned his court and his daughter by announcing his intention to marry Alicent Hightower, and the pair are formally shacked up with a two year old son and another baby on the way.
Sadly that meant 87% of Alicent’s acting in this episode was “pregnant lady belly stroking” which is a bit of a shame as no amount of tender touching was going to make that pillow shoved up her dress look realistic.
“It’s a basketball!”
It’s here we meet the first Lannister debuting in this episode.
Sometime in the intervening years, Tyland Lannister joined the Small Council, and it’s his job to inform Viserys that Corlys and Daemon have in fact put a foot wrong in the Stepstones.
“Everything’s turning to shit, Your Grace,” a nervous Tyland hisses at Viserys over the all-you-can-eat pig’s head buffet. The King is just trying to load up his plate with drumsticks and skin-on potato wedges from the bain marie and find out why his daughter is boycotting the party.
Tyland insists that due to the Sea Snake’s navy taking heavy losses, and dragon fire proving useless against the Triarchy’s cave-based hidey-holes, the matter must be dealt with.
But Viserys, happy to be in Otto-pilot, puts it to one side. He is in full Dad mode, fawning over his bouncing blond boy and excited about young Aegon’s second name day celebratory feast and brutal commemorative hunt.
He’s intent on having his whole family together for “adventures in the Kingswood”, and just like all Dads, insists they all share an awkward car journey.
Rhaenyra, now 17 and in full emo teen mode, certainly doesn’t want to be there, because despite the Triarchy terrorising the Stepstones, it’s another Triarchy worrying Rhaenyra…
…the PA-triarchy.
Still smarting from her best friend becoming her step-mum, she’s also cranky about the inevitability of her baby bro replacing her as heir apparent to the Iron Throne. She grew up with her father wanting a son so desperately her mother died for it, and that kind of hang-up doesn’t just go away.
Rhaenyra is also annoyed that Daddy-O is very keen to marry her off to a rich lord of the realm, because it’s the duty of every royal to get hitched, seed and breed. “You’ll make me a proud grandsire,” he beams, and ewwww, Dad, that’s so embarrassing, shut up, could this car ride BE any worse, I wish I’d brought my iPod/minstrel forced to sing the same song on repeat.
Rhaenyra even stays in the carriage sulking while Viserys shows off his wife and young Aegon, who receives a standing ovation longer than the one beloved 90s movie star Brendan Fraser just got at the premiere of his comeback movie.
Now I am not a fan of camping. My last attempt at camping was at the Woodford Folk Festival at the end of 2014, where I borrowed a tent that I had no idea how to erect, and after repeated failed attempts to Tetris it together, I gave up and called a local B&B begging for a room. Unfortunately they were booked out. Had it not been for a kind Canadian girl who emerged from the next tent over and offered to help, I probably would have had to pick up some cheesecloth-clad dreadlocked hipster wafting weed from his pores and trick him out of his faux yurt with a chai latte and homeopathic salve.
But even with my distaste for hippies and sleeping in the great outdoors, I would consider checking in at the swish forest retreat they've got happening in the Kingswood. It’s all cavernous tents and indoor-outdoor lounge suites, very fancy.
Viserys starts a long process of getting as hammered as possible, Alicent entertains ladies gossiping about the war (as well as Toast of London’s younger son, the one with a twisted foot, who no doubt will have to come back into play at some point), and Rhaenyra gets to meet the first of her potential suitors.
Step forward… JASON!
Nope, not that Jason.
Sadly, not that Jason either.
No, not even that Jason.
Look, I know that Jason has ancient roots (Mr “And the Argonauts” comes to mind), but I still find it hilarious when common modern names pop up in fantasy stories. You would have at least expected the spelling to be slightly different, like his descendent “Jaime”. And that’s before we even get to Corlys’ brother, (Everybody Loves) VAEMOND Valryon.
But instead we get JASON Lannister, who sounds either like a frontman for a boy band, or a gym bro running a weightlifting advice page on TikTok.
“Yes that IS a sword in my pocket and yes I AM happy to see you.”
To be honest, our JASON is pretty much a combination of both. Brash beyond his wealth and confident beyond his talents, JASON is the internet Pick Up Artist of the royal court, even calling Rhaenyra his potential “lady wife”. He’s a golden hair’s breath away from donning a fedora as he tells her all about how big Casterly Rock is. It’s really big, like, bigger than The Eyrie, and even bigger than The Wall. JASON LANNISTER HAS BIG STUFF OK, HE’S HUGE.
Rhaenyra is having none of it. She hands him back his dodgy Lannisport wine (everyone knows the best wine comes from The Reach!) and JASON is left to ponder what went wrong with his approach. Probably should have negged her more.
Even more cranky now, Rhaenyra starts a fight with Viserys about his efforts to marry her off to some loser whose descendants will probably be twincestors. Viserys argues that he’s drowning in proposals for her hand, and they won’t go away just because she thinks she can be independent, snap snap FEMINISM. After Otto draws attention to the fact they’re having a knock-down, drag-out bitch fight in front of the court, Rhaenyra storms out, grabs a horse, and gets the hell out of dodge.
Despite his clunky armour, Ser Criston Cole is quick enough to mount his steed (oo-er) and race after Rhaenyra. He manages to catch up to her just before she plunges horse-first into a lake, and the shock calms her Targaryen temper. She refuses to go back to the party, and all Ser Criston can do is breathe heavily and agree to explore the Kingswood for a while (not a euphemism).
This is where our hunter/hunted metaphors start coming into play, and it’s a terrific way of showing the differences between Father King and Princess Daughter.
Viserys is told a white hart has been spotted in the forest. Slaying the “King of the Kingswood”, Otto Hightower says, would be an auspicious achievement for Aegon’s name day.
Otto, of course, has reasons for bigging up Aegon’s importance, the main one being Aegon is his grandchild, as well as Viserys’ child. Much like Rhaenyra herself, most of the high lords are convinced Viserys will soon ditch his daughter as official heir in favour of Aegon, given the wee lad has so far held off the sweeping waves of infant diseases endemic to Westeros.
Otto is the one who tells his elder brother Hobart (or something like that, but Hobart is funnier) that it’s not that clear cut. Viserys is a loyal man. But he also knows the King is prone to a bit of portentous thinking. If he can ramp up the “spiritual successor to Aegon the Conqueror” rhetoric, he might be able to plant the idea in Viserys’ head that the Gods shine more brightly on boys than on girls.
Otto even goes as far as to suggest marrying Rhaenyra to Aegon in an effort to quash any succession quibbles. It is glorious that Viserys’ astounded response is “He’s just turned two!” rather than “They’re brother and sister!” Hashtag Classic Targaryen.
It even works, briefly. Like all good camping trips, there’s a large bonfire, and Alicent goes out to find her husband, tired and emotional and overthinking things by the flames. He tells her about a dream he once had, the same dream he described to Aemma before she died, about a male child born to him being hailed as King.
He says he appointed Rhaenyra to protect the realm from Daemon, and to try to set right the tragedy of Aemma’s death. But once a dreamer, always a dreamer, and Drunk Viserys worries he might have made the wrong decision, given that he remarried and now has that bonny male heir ater all.
“What is the power of a dragon against the power of prophecy?” he ponders. In episode one, Viserys spoke of Aegon the Conqueror as driven not just by expansionist desires, but by prophetic dreams. Aegon was more than just a dragon rider, and Viserys wanted to be like his famous ancestor. But he only ever had one dream, one that through no fault of his own he couldn’t manifest it; his male children died and eventually Aemma did too.
So here he is, by the fire, with a fine new wife and hunting to be done, but wondering whether he’s screwed everything up again.
While Viserys cries into his booze before the bonfire, his daughter is about to prove her worthiness near another flame.
She’s been out with Ser Criston Cole, moaning about how Nobody Understands How Hard My Life Is. And look, if we learned nothing else from the death of Princess Diana, it’s never get in a limo with a drunk driver… I mean, it’s that royalty comes with the sacrifice of many personal freedoms.
But as Ser Criston points out under his mop of helmet hair (seriously my dude, a quick zhuzh with a travel size hairspray would make a lot of sense for you), she also has a whole bunch of money and privilege and dragons and money and stylists and education and money.
He also argues that she does have some power - after all, she appointed him to the Kingsguard. That’s the highest honour his family has ever achieved. Later, when they’ve set up a fire and she asks if the realm will accept her as Queen, he says “They’ll have no choice”. It’s not the most reassuring reassurance, but Ser Criston is about to get a taste of what this potential Queen can do.
For out of the forest comes a crazed, shrieking boar, that sweeps Ser Criston onto its horns and smacks him onto the ground. The creature then turns and scrambles towards Rhaenyra, getting stuck into her face in a mad attack.
Ser Criston skewers the boar with his sword, the tip just a whisker from her face, and it crashes to the ground next to Rhaenyra. But before she can catch her breath, the animal wrenches its head up and starts squealing again. Before Criston has time to turn, Rhaenyra has pulled a dagger from - somewhere? - and started hacking into the beast.
I went back and counted: Rhaenyra stabs the pig 10 times before the scene cut away. She went completely Lord of the Flies on that thing. Somebody give Rhaenyra the goddamned conch.
The next day, Viserys goes out to claim his own “prize” - the white hart. Except it’s not white, it’s brown. It is still “a big lad”, which to translate into Australian means “a big unit”. It’s being held captive, with four men hanging onto it with ropes, straining against the hart’s irrepressible panic.
Viserys takes a fancy spear given to him by JASON Lannister (it’s HUGE, and LONG, because JASON does BIG THINGS), and has to be guided to where he should deploy the weapon.
The hart was a CGI creature and the death happened mostly offscreen, but there was enough reality to its horrendous death throes screaming to make the scene truly unsettling.
The moment reminded me of a George Orwell story about shooting an elephant while working as an Imperial policeman in Burma in the early 1920s. The elephant had gotten loose and trampled a man, and even though it had calmed down, Orwell realised the whole village was looking to him to shoot the creature.
For the would-be writer, it crystallised his hatred for the Empire:
“And it was at this moment, as I stood there with the rifle in my hands, that I first grasped the hollowness, the futility of the white man’s dominion in the East. Here was I, the white man with his gun, standing in front of the unarmed native crowd – seemingly the leading actor of the piece; but in reality I was only an absurd puppet pushed to and fro by the will of those yellow faces behind. I perceived in this moment that when the white man turns tyrant it is his own freedom that he destroys. He becomes a sort of hollow, posing dummy, the conventionalized figure of a sahib. For it is the condition of his rule that he shall spend his life in trying to impress the “natives,” and so in every crisis he has got to do what the “natives” expect of him. He wears a mask, and his face grows to fit it. I had got to shoot the elephant.”
Viserys had expressed enthusiasm for hunting at the start of the episode, but now, confronted with the reality of killing a hart that wasn’t even the white hart he was promised, he’s less thrilled.
But the court is assembled, and everybody is waiting for their Hunter King to do the Kingly Thing and Kill The Prey.
Paddy Considine as Viserys played the contradiction beautifully; limp at the prospect of killing the wrong stag - one he didn’t catch himself but had served up to him - his first stab doesn’t do the job, forcing him to stab again.
He wrenches the spear out of the creature and the crowd starts to mechanically applaud their mighty King. But Viserys’ expression shows he’s anything but proud. Like Orwell, he was the white man with the gun, and acted because the crowd expected him to do so.
But the whole thing was hollow, and he is shown the difference when Rhaenyra makes her return to camp with the boar.
She jumps off her horse and strides towards the tent, passing all the high lords and ladies enjoying the sunshine, her hair, neck and hands still covered in the dried pig’s blood.
Most are shocked. Some, like JASON Lannister, appear revolted. Some seem a little bit turned on, and I don’t blame them. It was quite the “F*** you, I deal with my problems” vibe.
For Rhaenyra had had her own good omen that day - an encounter with the white hart, an animal with a magical reputation steeped in greater European folklore, now transferred directly to Westeros.
There it was, another CGI creature, but still impressive enough to make Ser Criston draw his sword in defence. “No!” whispers Rhaenyra, who judges correctly that the hart is simply curious, and poses no threat to them.
I think Rhaenyra’s adventure gave her some understanding of the power that Ser Criston insists she has. She was willing to let go of decorum in her own defence; she is willing to get her hands dirty.
But she also knows when to recognise beauty and fellow majesty. The white hart was the King of the Kingswood after all, and their quiet meeting was nothing if not two royals acknowledging each other.
“Let’s all just enjoy this nice, calm, heavily symbolic moment.”
Contrast this to her father, who has not dirtied his hands. He killed at a distance, and left the beast to die. The deer didn’t threaten his own life or that of his family, it was simply presented to him like the double-headed pig buffet in the beginning of the episode.
Viserys may fancy himself a dreamer, but he’s setting himself up for a rude awakening.
Viserys’ hands have remained firmly OFF the war in the Stepstones, now in its third exciting year of being a total shitshow.
But back home after the hunt and hungover AF, he is approached by Lord Corlys’ brother Vaemond for more help.
Alicent is at last given some non-belly stroking work to do when she asks why Viserys won’t help his brother and one-time ally. Viserys parrots back Otto’s line about how they started the war without his approval and he might look weak - this coming from the man whose stag party was less than impressive, but sure.
Viserys thinks Alicent a soft touch when she claims helping Daemon might just show him as a man who loves his brother. He comes out with the utterly tragic line “I am forever doomed to anger one person in the pleasing of another” I am sure we’ve all felt like that on occasion. Sometimes it’s your own worries that hunt you, but sometimes it really is other people getting pissed off with you even when you’re trying your best. Sigh.
But it’s to Alicent’s credit that she retorts with her own, cut-through-the-BS question: “Is it better for the realm if the Crabfeeder thrives, or is vanquished?”
The final scene in King’s Landing sees a detente of sorts between the King and the Princess. Viserys sends soldiers off to Dwarfstone with a message for Daemon, and tells Rhaenyra he is sending ships and soldiers to the Stepstones.
They get into another tiff about her refusal to marry, but Viserys takes a more conciliatory approach, no doubt influenced again by Alicent. Rhaenyra’s one time bestie told him that she will marry, but she must feel like she’s in charge of the decision. And so Viserys tells his daughter that while she must follow her preordained royal role - because it would be irresponsible not to - he’ll back off forcing JASON Lannister or any other posh lord upon her.
It took a few days chasing a hart to make Viserys decide to follow his heart. He chooses a relationship with his daughter (and the hope she can enjoy a loving marriage like he did with her mother) over his long-held prophetic obsession with putting a son on the Iron Throne after him. He wavered, he tells Rhaenyra, referencing his drunken bonfire rant, but he promises she will not be supplanted.
Of course the question now is whether that holds up. Whatever happens after Viserys is gone, Aegon and the extended Hightower clan will have a claim to the Throne, and the ambition to get it. Rhaenyra might have won this battle, but she hasn’t won the war.
Speaking of which, things are dire over on Dwarfstone, with the Velaryon fleet down feeling the Crabfeeder’s pinch.
Corlys’ son Laenor has had a growth spurt, going from maybe 13 years old in episode one to maybe 16 years old here. Despite his youth he’s clearly become a seasoned fighter because he is well in charge of the group Warhammer 40K table. Henry Cavill himself would be impressed with how Laenor deploys his… *checks Google* Adeptus Custodes. Ahem.
Hobbies aside, Laenor tells his Dad there’s no point doing continuing dragon strafes because the Triarchy are getting all early 2000s al-Qaeda hiding out in caves away where the flying fire-breathing lizards can’t get them.
Laenor suggests they offer Daemon as real-life bait for the Crabfeeder, something that will draw them out of their shadowy lairs and into the spotlight. They probably should have just stood there yelling “Hey look, black people in a high fantasy series!” and a bunch of them would have come out of the woodwork to protest.
As Caraxes shrieks his return, Laenor argues that Daemon is actually fighting the war while everyone else is just standing around bitching. But Vaemond shouts that if King’s Landing won’t support the Rogue Prince, why should they? “STFU bro,” Corlys warns. “No mutiny talk here.”
Matt Smith arrives at the table, ditching his gloves, helmet and all f***s left to give. The uneasy silence is broken by Viserys’ messenger dude, who hands over the proclamation from the King.
The camera spends a lot of time caressing Matt Smith’s profile, as he contemplates what he’s just read, and smiles slyly.
He then proceeds to BEAT THE EVERLOVING SHIT out of the messenger. There is literally a phrase about that, Daemon, but he didn’t care.
I was a little hazy at first about why Daemon was so angry at what you’d think would be good news, but it started becoming clearer as Viserys’ voiceover kicked in and we saw the prince row row row his boat across the channel to the rebel island.
Ten ships and 2000 men are on their way, which at first seemed like a decent amount. But I thought back to the Lannisters and Starks in the first series of Game of Thrones, massing hosts of 20,000 men or more. Sure, this is a naval contingent, not a land army, but it still seems a more rudimentary force.
So Daemon is pissed that his brother, having ignored him for the best part of three years, is now deigning to send a token force, with no mention of extra dragons, that he will claim credit for should they succeed in tossing the Crabfeeder into a vat of boiling water.
Daemon, battle worn and weary, does not see his brother ride out on dragonback himself, like his hero Aegon the Conqueror would do. He remains ensconced in luxury, keeping those soft hands clean.
And so Daemon rolls the riskiest of dice. He strides alone into the rebel camp, waving a white flag of surrender and even kneeling down to proffer his sword.
Craghas Drahar is wary, scanning the skies for surprise dragons, but eventually motions for his men to approach Daemon.
Archers high above on the cliff face stand ready to loose pointy justice on Daemon, but before they can, the Rogue Prince pulls a hidden dagger from his tunic and unleashes hell. He stabs and cuts down about six dudes and launches into the most impressive one-man run at the enemy since Gallipoli.
What are your legs? Steel springs! What are they going to do? Hurl you towards a guy with mange!
To be honest, that run was so epic, I’m waiting for someone to slow-mo the footage and re-edit it to Kate Bush’s Running Up That Hill.
By the way, which recap series was flying the flag for Kate Bush long before Stranger Things? THIS ONE.
Daemon understands what it is to be a hunter; he isn’t afraid to risk his own life for the bigger prize.
Not only did he get his hands dirty, but he got HURT. As he got closer to the Crabfeeder, he was hit by a couple of arrows - one suspiciously close to the shoulder wound he suffered while raiding at the very start of the episode.
Taking shelter briefly in the stripped hulk of an old boat, Daemon realises he’s being encircled by the Triarchy. He snaps the arrow in his chest off as best he can, gets to his feet, grabs his sword and readies himself for their charge.
But then, through the smoke, he sees the Sea Snake himself. Lord Corlys and his soldiers have appeared at exactly the right time to even the numbers. They launch their attack, and if you’re anything like me, you sat there biting your nails and thinking “When is the dragon going to arrive when’s the dragon going to arrive when’s the dragon going to arrive…”
AND THEN THE DRAGON ARRIVED!
But not Caraxes; this dragon was more purpley-grey rather than red and black, and the subtitles identified it as “Sea Smoke”, which, sure, is a pretty cool dragon name. It was also being ridden by Laenor, which confused me for a moment. Last episode Corlys spoke of the Valyrons not having dragons; but of course, Laenor is the son of Rhaenys Targaryen, very much a dragon rider. “Sea Smoke” then, is the perfect name for his scaly bird; uniting the families’ sea and fire imagery, with the cute wordplay on his father’s “Sea Snake” nickname to boot.
Laenor seems to love dragon riding too, throwing out a few “Whoo!”s as his steed tears heads off rebels.
There’s blood and gore aplenty as heads are dashed in, faces are smashed in, and blood puddles are splashed in.
Both brothers Velaryon get brutal kills in before the biggest prize of the day is captured.
We saw Matt Daemon look to see the Cragas Dragar retreating into his caves, becoming the Hermit Crabfeeder, if you will.
Then next time we see Daemon, he is carrying his sword in his right hand, and dragging a lumpen shape in his left. He emerges from the cave to see his team winning the battle, then drags his prize through the water to dump it in view of the battlefield.
It is the crab himself, sliced through the middle, entrails… well, trailing behind in the sand and mud. The final shot of the episode is Daemon, face and white blond hair soaked red, surveying the scene of his successful attack - an intensified escalation of the way bloody Rhaeneyra towed her skewered boar back to the hunting party.
Victory gained on his own, no input from his bro’s paltry back-up required.
So the Crabfeeder’s side hustle is at an end.
It should be noticed that apart from a few calls of “Come out and face me!” at the very start of the episode, Daemon did everything WITHOUT A WORD.
Crabfeeder never spoke either; in the end this was a battle of strength, not sentences.
Or maybe they just didn’t have much of a… voCRABulary.
Yay! Best Moments
Obviously giving us dragon battles in episode three was pretty damn cool, and the even though the white hart was CGI, I still really loved that moment with Rhaenyra.
But I also want to point out one tiny character moment that I just adored in this episode, featuring Lord Strong, aka Steven Toast.
At the hunt, he offers Viserys his opinion on whom Rhaenyra should marry. Trollied, Viserys says don’t tell me, it’s your big brave eldest son. Steven Toast smiles and says “You flatter me, but no”, and then goes on to spruik for Laenor Velaryon, for the same reasons that he once suggested Viserys marry Laina, Corlys and Rhaenys’ daughter.
I’m already pretty fond of Toast, and that just endeared me to it/him even more. Again, a tiny moment, but one that gave me hope at least one person on Viserys’ council is decent enough to think beyond their own grasping lust for power.
Zing! Best Lines
The exchange between Alicent and Rhaenyra in the godswood(?) with the minstrel was pure gold. Rhaenyra kept forcing the poor bugger to play the same song over and over, and gets into a pissing contest with the Queen.
Alicent: “You may go, Samwell.”
Rhaenyra: “You are to stay by order of the Princess.”
Alicent: “The Queen commands you to leave the godswood at once.”
Samwell bows and gets the f*** out of there.
Eww, gross
I loved Viserys being handed fresh stag doo-doo, holding it in his bare hand and happily sniffing, agreeing with the chief huntsman that it’s only a few hours old and shows the beast is close by.
Perhaps there’s something to be said that the only time Viserys let his hands get dirty in this entire episode was handling cervine fecal matter.
Boo, sucks
The longer time jumps would indicate that we’re soon going to lose our younger Alicent and Rhaenyra in favour of new actors. It’s no secret that was going to happen, but it’s funny how even after three episodes, I’m very fond of those two girls, particularly Rhaenyra. But time marches on, and they’ll always have played an important part in establishing the characters!
Thank you so much for reading, kittens! Remember you can find my Patreon here and sign up to throw a few bucks per month my way while the season is running. The support is incredible, and I cannot thank you enough!