How exactly was he going to find the others and get them all out of here without them asking too many uncomfortable questions about where they were or how he knew where to go? Or before other deer came across them? Or before the forest got to them? There was a reason deer were the only ones who could navigate the Greenwoods safely, and even that was not as much of a guarantee these days as it used to be. He looked up at the canopy, frowning. He shouldn't have had to kindly ask the vines to let him down; he should have been able to simply wish for it, almost without thinking. It was getting bad. He didn't want to see this place when winter came and they had no means of soothing the forest. Nodeer did.