Not so much a foxglove as a pansy.
"Grim circumstances, indeed. Appears you're in need of mending. I hope your injuries aren't too grave?"
He looks down momentarily, grimacing at his bloodied fingers before responding. The sensation is quite unpleasant in a rather niggling way, but I would venture that I should likely convalesce with some competent medical attention. Some bed rest may do me good as well. As he speaks his eyes wander aimlessly to the evening sky. He starts to double over for a moment before catching himself.