Which way to the woodcutters again?

Amethyst launched into the sky, powerful wings beating down. The downdraft sending monks, foxes and rats scattering.

"Bloody hell missy!" Shouted Skaran from a pile of hay. "E're? Where's this woodcutter's shed then?"

Barnabas spat hay as he too crawled out from the stack. "Bleurgh! P'th, p'th! Not far, but it's going to be a bit of a run."

"Last one there gets to dig 'is bonieness's 'ole where we bury his skinny arse in the ground!" And with that, Skaran leapt out of the hay stack and streaked across the yard before stopping. "Er... Which way fox?" Barnabas pointed.