He wished the deer luck. It would be their problem to deal with, and he would be long gone by the time said consequences rolled around. With his armour taken care of, he returned to the Hishym where they had been allotted accommodations. He still had to put up with being shadowed everywhere he went by guards but they at least kept a comfortable distance. People still whispered – somehow the fact that pretty much all of them were whispering in the deer language made it worse – but he put up with it all the way back up to the Hishym and into the house afforded them. He was getting his armour repaired and pretty soon he would get a free ride out of this hellhole of a forest and either on his way home or on track to breaking that earth pony sorcerer’s skull. Whichever came first and was convenient while he was fulfilling this damned geas of Chrysalis’. Unfortunately, as much as he preferred the former, the latter was far more likely to be his next goal.