His blunt 'yes' startles a little laugh out of Charley, which twists into faint confusion as his face contorts into what seems like recognition, hands a blur of excitable pointing.

And then-- oh, it must be, mustn't it? The tone is nearly the same as the one the first Doctor she'd met in New York, the other other Doctor, had used when he'd met her, torn somewhere between pride and grief and nostalgia and plain surprise. 'Well, when one finds oneself in a mysterious dream-forest, there are only so many options; may as well start as one means to go on.' She pauses, eyeing him for a moment before venturing, 'Doctor?'

And quite suddenly she finds herself laughing from the sheer absurdity of it, because of course, she shouldn't even be surprised anymore, should she? She presses a fist to her mouth, teeth digging into one knuckle in an attempt to stifle her laughter, but it feels rather like the unnerving atmosphere of the dream lends itself to hysteria and she can't quite manage it. Horatio, bless him, takes the initiative and flutters down to land on the ground, peering up at this new Doctor and his owl.

'Does this always happen to your friends? Meet one version of you and suddenly there's dozens of past and future selves flocking to come join the party?'