Well, there was that one time...Anyway. "Well that's good news." The Doctor resumes his brisk striding, confidence restored, not that it had really done more than fluctuate a bit, like the lights during a storm, a momentary startling flicker and then bright once more. The woods might be to blame; concern for what he might be walking into is not usually part of his repertoire.

"And no, I'm not trapped in New York, not at the moment," he answers the snake. Good eye, snake. Or ear...tube, or whatever. That was a good catch, how about that. "I am, however, investigating the rift and its...circumstances. Or hoping to, anyway. You see, I have a theory that these dreams will increase in frequency with proximity to the rift itself, for those on the other side of it, like myself. Of course, this is only the second of these dreams I've had, so I haven't got any numbers to work with. Sort of a, an interstellar game of hot-and-cold." That's a vast oversimplification of his strategy and his theorising about the rift, but he's feeling merciful.