Bramblepoint Bird of may, sitting by the bay

“Whoops.” He exhaled out loud, pushed by the light pant of exerting himself on three legs instead of four. He hadn’t meant to be so boisterous in his approach, and he wasn’t surprised to see the stranger she-wolf now slightly cautious of him. For good reason, he looked like a wreck. “Sorry ‘bout that, didn’t want you gettin’ away—“ He cut himself off realizing that didn’t sound quite like he meant it. “Er, I’m Foster. Could use a little help if you don’t mind?” Gesturing to the thorn in his cheek and his upright paw hanging in the air between them. He'd hope she'd forgive his poor choice of words.