Clementine's mouth forms into a thin, angry line. The smriks' gone. She'd been willing to shove away the anger too until the apologies that come first. She folds her arms across her chest. There's the anger she'd been swallowing down like she's good at doing when survival's more important.

"It was my choice, and if I hadn't dragged myself in, you'd both be dead."

There's a reason she stuck to text. There's a reason she didn't inform Jay she's eleven years old, because she knows no one in their right mind would accept her help. This is her life. This is her world. She knows it better than anyone except for Michonne who knows it just as well as she does.

She spits the words out.

"Trying to blow up a house full of walkers by yourself and driving a car into a house full of gasoline in the middle of a horde? Really stupid choices that almost got the both of you killed and could have gotten a lot of other people killed. So think in the future. Don't be sorry. Just. Fucking. Think."

Clementine studies them once the anger's left her. Tim looks like he can barely stand on his own two feet, and the other guy's shaking.

"You both look terrible. Do you have a safe house to go to?"