From the letter, getting back seems like something of a crapshoot.

[His eyes flicker to the boars behind his shades, and his expression doesn't change. He counts them over. Seven boars near their place on the cabin roof.]

It'd be a waste to kill them. I'd prefer to wait for them to leave if we can manage it.

[He says it with equal calm, like it's a given that he would win against seven boars.]