He grinned at the idea that Max had found himself a girlfriend. "Good for you Max," he said, then turned to Luna. "I've got a family of bowtruckles, and the littlest one is injured. I don't think it's bad enough to require isolation in the menagerie, so probably the woods would be okay."
He carefully reached into his pocket and pulled out the little creature. One of its long, spindly arms was currently being supported by tiny splints. It looked up at Luna and waved it's healthy arm. This one was one of the friendliest creatures, and probably why it had been injured to begin with.
"There's six of them, but they seem to want to stay together, so one tree will probably do them."