The Doctor is taking to this dream surprisingly well, taking ungainly long steps through the sand and nattering at the stoic owl on his shoulder about carbon sand (and its requisite reversal, silicon based biology) and whatever else comes to mind. The owl isn't really the best audience, isn't impressed by the rattling off of molybdenum contents or fishpeople customs, but that's the nice thing about these dreams: you can usually corner someone somewhere, even on a cornerless beach. The sand is very red. Maybe if he talks loudly and animatedly enough, he can drown that out.

A tideline is as good as a corner, and there's someone conveniently right against it, drawing in the sand, an ominously robed someone. No, scratch that--a someone way too short to be ominous, with familiar green claws holding a bit of driftwood and a strangely, equally familiar snake just visible in the folds of the robe. "Callie!" he says, half greeting and half scold. "And...snake," he offers, at something of a loss. "Why are you dressed like that, this isn't the place for that get-up," he starts in. He's reasonably sure why she's hiding in a robe, but he has to at least try. Not that he doesn't understand the appeal in hooded clothing, especially if it's suitably aesthetically battered, but the ocean is no place to dress like a spectre, especially considering her relatively recent history as one.