The Doctor wiped the rain from his brow with the mudless back of his hand, and dirt dripped from his fingers onto his cheek. Howard had called to him, there was no way he could ignore him forever. Finding his feet, he tried to decide how to deal with the boy, sluggishly starting ahead, like a man in slow-motion.

Even if remaining behind was an option, he had nothing to offer Howard. His lips had turned blue and he could not make conversation, after all, without wheezing - he turned around to face Howard a moment, trying to smile, though it came off as more of a grimace as the rain slammed down across his back.

Gathering all of his strength, he tried to be perfectly clear, to speak only once, the only words he could think to say. "I'm being pursued," he lied. "Do not follow me." His tone was sharp, like commanding a dog to stay.