Bramblepoint a pathological disgrace

In spite of the needling pain with which the thorns were assaulting her, she looked at him and giggled quietly, pale eyes squinting like a tickled little girl's. She didn't mean to make light of his predicament, but his wild spitting of the bramble from his maw was adorable. 

Oh, it's okay, she attempted to assure him, her silky tail wagging at her heels. Gingerly she sat down before him, aware with a tinge of shame that there were thorns lodged in her tail and hindquarters. Those could be dealt with later. She was more concerned about the handsome male with those striking heterochromatic eyes.

Do... Do you need help, maybe? she asked, her tone gentle and sweet.