Handy, for his part, was in between reactions at the moment. On the one hand, this entire situation was ridiculous. These deer were ridiculous. He was tired, hungry, irritable, in chains, his wrist itched something fierce, and no amount of rubbing it against the chaffing metal of his shackles did anything to lessen it. On the other hand, he was enjoying watching someone else go through the wringer for once with immense satisfaction. Although this was hardly what he had been expecting when they were brought to meet Bambi, devourer of souls, chieftain of the Whisperwood tribe. Handy was perfectly willing to stop referring to her as Bambi and mentally giving her overly dramatic titles when her existence stopped being ludicrous.