Sorry, Edgar starts. I'm mute, and it's a lot faster to talk this way than it is for me to write things down. Oh, and I'm sorry if I sound like someone you know, he tacks on, to get it out of the way. It'll stop eventually.

He gives the smaller Andrew - who looks like he's clinging to consciousness by his fingernails - a worried glance.

I think you two should recombine, he says, somewhat bluntly. If it doesn't go as well as we hope for you, I can carry you back to the TARDIS, no problem. But traveling like this is going very badly for him, Edgar finishes, nodding toward the Andrew still in his hand.