For some reason, he had expected the little green girl to behave predictably and, well, well-behavedly. They don't really get going until there's a pack of them, do they? Her sudden squeak and lightning-fast absconding startle him into nearly toppling backwards as he tries to step back while half crouching, quickly bracing a hand against a tree, face aghast at this turn of events. Sraif concurs with the standard indignant flapping and chittering, probably more at his instability than anything else. Slowly and consideringly, the Doctor unfolds back up to his full height, now making the face he makes when someone is being incomprehensible. Unfortunately, there's no one around to translate, and it sounds an awful lot like he's about to have to deal with a distraught child in a scary forest, again. As cautiously and unthreateningly as he can manage, he sidles towards the tree.

"Well. I have an owl and a screwdriver, so it's a stalemate, better call a truce. What if I promise not to look, would you come out? Why don't you want anyone to look at you? Can the owl look? I didn't mean to scare you, or your charming snake. I won't look, unless you say to," he says in a torrent of curiosity, followed by reassurance, as soon as he remembers to offer it. He stops near the tree but still out of sight, sits down cross-legged, and covers his eyes. Very calm, and very stationary, and very defenseless. No sudden movements, as difficult as that is for him to manage, and rhythmic, soothing words, like she's a wild animal that's gotten trapped in the house and needs to be negotiated with to be removed peacefully. "See? You can come out, nothing's going to get you, because you're very dangerous."