[He hesitates, then pushes away from the trunk, gingerly resting his hand on her crest. When she doesn't randomly grow spikes or bite him or something, he lightly rests his elbow against her withers, and then puts his free hand on her shoulder. He has to lean on her a little bit, since while he hasn't broken anything, it still hurts to stand.]

Th-thanks. I--thanks.

[And since he still has moments when he has no idea whether what he's saying is appropriate for the situation or not--] Your, uh--I mean, your coat is really soft. B-but I guess I don't really have a point of reference, so maybe that's, um, that's normal for ponies. [He's not used to touching people, alright?]