Another party perhaps? Maybe the mark had been made before he’d even left Griffonia. Any number of people could have done it. He knew for a fact the Lord Caretaker Herman Sunderclaw, Gethrenia’s real spymaster, kept tabs on him. Hell, that was why he had decided to write a journal in a language he knew no one in Gethrenia at least understood. Changelings? Always possible. Other pony spies, other griffon spies, hell, maybe even one of those two punch-drunk teenagers from the village who thought it’d be a fucking awesome idea to break into Baron Haywatch’s manor on a drunken dare one night. Unfortunately for them, Handy had been moving his coffin into a spare room at the time and had taken the opportunity to make his displeasure immediately obvious in dramatic fashion. He had forgiven them of course, publicly, when their abashed parents came begging forgiveness on their behalf the day after he had sent them screaming for their mothers.