She's right, and he knows it, has already had the thought himself on some level; this would be such an interesting experiment if there weren't so much else to acclimate to. And if he weren't so tetchy and territorial in reaction to it all. And, as she's rightly surmised, he wasn't in the best state even before the calamitous translation to this universe. "Yes. Recently so," he grudgingly admits. But she shouldn't go latching onto that, his ego would feel a bit bypassed in this situation no matter what his traveling arrangements had been. "Good thing, too. Considering this." He gestures vaguely, indicating the new universe and the rift and all. Probably best there aren't any traveling humans suddenly abandoned back in his universe. Though they'd probably have been fine.

He silently makes known his gratitude and relief at being welcomed, feeling more at ease with that form of expression. Things could have been so much worse, being stranded here with no TARDIS at all. "Though I wasn't any more alone there than in this universe. Technically." Which is a complicated and tightly wound statement, encompassing both his thankfulness for her presence as a universal constant, and his trepidation at being displaced and wing-clipped. This isn't the best outcome, but it's hardly the worst either, that has to count for something.