"Oh good, because otherwise I would have been left with my own company and that never goes well."

The Doctor always seeks company, even when he has at times attempted to insist that he's perfectly fine alone. Age — or something like it — has dulled the strength of those protests. He's far more earnest and open about enjoying all the time with others that he can grasp onto.

"Do I," he addresses her question first, as though that's an answer, but it's actually a question. Sort of. "I don't know, I'm still working that out. When I was younger, I was more...the catch and release sort." He thinks of a memorable fishing trip with Jamie and Victoria and William Wallace, notably. "A few hundred years later, traveling with a friend, I thought it a perfectly pleasant way to spend the next fifty years — just fishing. Or simply a few hours, as it turned out," he smirks a little, moving to settle beside her, shrugging off his pack, but not before reaching inside for something bundled up in a clean cloth.

He doesn't realize he hasn't entirely answered her question before he's suddenly offering the bundle to her. "Gooseberries? If you care to indulge."