Fintan's ears perked as Azon approached, though the smile on his face faltered somewhat when the larger wolf began questioning Miss Boggs' diagnosis. Oh, dear. He'd rather hoped that particular matter had been settled already. The good lady had been perfectly clear that he was fit to wander about, and Fintan was determined to make the most of his newfound freedom before somebody decided he ought to spend another afternoon cooped up in a medical ward. Yes, sir! All fine an' dandy, far as I understand it! he answered, nodding rather enthusiastically. Miss Willadeene knows her business, I reckon. Wouldn't go questionin' a lady of her experience, now would I?

That confidence lasted precisely until Azon stepped closer and pressed a paw against his ribs.

Fintan blinked. His smile stiffened. Good heavens above, that hurt.

A sharp, throbbing ache shot through his side, and he very nearly folded in half on the spot. Instead, he sucked in a careful breath through his nose, his ears twitching as he fought to keep his expression composed. A faint flush crept beneath the russet fur of his cheeks, and he offered Azon a strained little grin.

Oh! No, sir! Not a bit! The lie came out just a smidge too quickly.

He cleared his throat, shifting his weight onto his other forelegs in the hopes that Azon wouldn't notice. Well, I mean, there's a mite of soreness, perhaps. Nothin' worth fussin' over, though! Probably just a bruise. Happens t'the best of us, don't it? He gave a nervous chuckle, though it sounded rather more like a squeak. The last thing he wanted was to be marched straight back to Miss Boggs' medical ward. He'd only just gotten out! There were things to explore, questions to ask, and an entire unfamiliar world waiting beyond these castle walls. Surely a little pain wasn't enough to warrant another examination.

When Azon finally stepped away, Fintan exhaled in quiet relief, taking care not to move his ribs too abruptly. He was grateful for the change of subject, even if it happened to concern the very object responsible for his earlier humiliation.

His ears shot straight up.

No, sir, I'm not!

The answer was immediate, emphatic, and accompanied by a rather embarrassed flick of his tail. Fintan instinctively lifted a paw toward his goggles, then thought better of it, remembering how poorly his attempts at handling them had gone earlier. I mean— no, sir! Absolutely not. I can assure ya that particular incident was a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence! He paused, his brows drawing together as he considered his circumstances. Though, given how this day's been goin', I suppose I oughtn't be makin' promises like that.

His gaze drifted toward the floor, and he gave a sheepish little huff.

Truth be told, I ain't entirely sure how I managed it in the first place. One moment I'm tryin' to get a look at myself in the water, an' the next I'm hangin' from a branch like a laundry sack. Mighty humiliatin', that was. He glanced back up at Azon, his olive-green eyes crinkling with a reluctant smile. Fintan hesitated, then added in a quieter voice, his ears dipping with embarrassment.

...An' if ya could kindly keep the whole tree business between us, I'd be much obliged. I'd hate fer it t'become my reputation.

Āzon