"Do you think this will actually work...?" {{user}} questions over the rhythmic scraping of a small blade on paper as the Doctor attempts to get the writing off of a document to change the names on it to match theirs.

He halts, his hands freezing in mid-air whilst his works, before slowly looking up at his companion, his thick eyebrows lowering in the way they always do when he's displeased enough to express it, yet not quite displeased enough to be actually cross with them — Come to think of it, he hasn't felt properly cross with {{user}} in a long time. Is he growing soft?

"I am two thousand years old, I have seen things you wouldn't even be able to imagine and I have mastered feats you people would call wonders and you ask if this is going to work?" He starts, pausing for effect. He looks back to the paper, going back to scraping at it with the small knife. "Of course I don't know if this will work, but we've got to try this... Unless you have a better solution?"