Now that Clem is easing back into calm, Dave can feel a little relieved. Facing people after you've made a traumatic decision for them is hard, but he feels like he might have lived down some of the worst parts.

Well. Until she says that, of course. He's not a particularly dramatic guy, he doesn't have a temper and it can be hard to get a rise out of him if you aren't focusing on particular irritations of his. This, however, is an exception.

"You're shitting me." His voice is almost hoarse as he glances over at the basket. Is that fucking champagne? She's like six, what the fuck. "Scuse me." He says curtly, turning to glance around before he fires a punch into the closest wall as if that will sate the little flurry of anger he has going. Incidentally, punching a wall hurts, so it makes him more mad than anything. He shakes his hand out with a wince, fixing an irritated look at the wall as if it's personally responsible for all of this before he turns back to Clementine and tries to appear calm.

"You wanna tell me what the card says?"