Meanwhile the Doctor is looking around the console room and trying not to frown at it. It's not currently his place to make demands about the decor, but it's so bright and there's so little red. No chalkboards at all. He definitely can't say anything about it yet, but he doesn't have to like it, anymore than sitting in a still-warm bus seat. Not the bus' fault. Just another jarring reminder that this isn't his universe to be comfortable in, not that he's ever been great at comfort.

Thankfully the non-cat, now also a non-dog, has returned to spare him the opportunity to misstep so soon. Her judgmental look isn't lost on him, either. Apparently she's still taking everything personally, no surprise there. "Aha! A teenager. I knew it." The Doctor points triumphantly, back-stepping around the console, before looking to the TARDIS. "What, are you a hotel now as well as a person? When's check-out? Did I approve this?"