[And as soon as David is directing the donkey away from him, Stiles staggers back, glancing forlornly at the remains of his shirt.
SIGHS. But he doesn't want to seem ungrateful, because he isn't, no, he's really, really grateful for that donkey being, you know, at least three feet away from him, now, and so he mutters, absently,]
Thanks, Dad. [Did not. pause to think of that one.]