Amos spooks just a little, nerves high-strung from all the recent danger. He turns a friendly - if sheepish - grin to the man, taking him in with a quick glance. Ah, he's seen him around before, but they've not spoken. "Hi. I twisted my ankle. Is there an ace wrap I can borrow?"

He limps a few steps closer. He can bear weight on it, it's just...pretty unhappy about it. Amos is dead certain it's not broken, though, he's dealt with that before. Strain or sprain, hell if he knows, but tender and swollen, certainly. He did a good job on it.