He just keeps prattling. Greta grits her teeth; his tagging along would be frustrating enough on its own without the addition of constant, pointless questions. If this is a dream, why does he care if she's specific about where they are? And what on earth does he mean by 'a reason she's here'? It's her bloody dream, apparently; where else should she be?

Finally, she rounds on him, planting her hands on her hips. "Why don't you explain what reason you have for being here?" she demands.