Owen closes his eyes briefly, smile subsumed into a brief shake of his head. "Do you carry some around for special occasions? Thrill-seeking tendencies?"

Getting dragged half back to the village by this thing is probably up there with the badger and Liv for years shed off his life. With that in mind, and the general safety of the field itself, he has to wonder aloud: "Doesn't seem that urgent; maybe we just put a gourd on a stick and see if those antlers fit through the jailhouse door."