Presently, the Doctor realised that he was alone with his hostess, the other guests and family having departed, leaving behind a table of empty plates.
"Well, that was an excellent meal," declared the Doctor as he set his knife and fork down on his plate. "It's not often we're met with such hospitality."
"You travel a lot then, Doctor?" asked Vanya.
"A great deal," he replied, managing to make his life sound entirely uninteresting in three syllables.
"Tell me, what were you and your friend doing on the moors this evening."
"Enjoying a pleasant stroll," said the Doctor without missing a beat. It seemed she had been remarkably good at covering his suspicion earlier, or perhaps it had simply been unimportant. Regardless, he had no intention of encouraging it.
"I see." It seemed she wasn't going to accept an innocent explanation. The Doctor decided that a direct approach would be best.
"Is there any particular reason you don't believe me?" he asked.
Vanya shrugged. "No particular reason, no. I just don't like coincidences, they've caused problems before."
"I prefer to have healthy belief in luck," said the Doctor, but what he was thinking of was the CIA. Holiday, indeed. They had put the TARDIS down in the right spot to hear that scream and they knew that he would have to investigate.
"Good or bad?"
"I seem to attract both," he replied, smiling. Direct approach, he reminded himself. "For instance I wouldn't consider stumbling into a pack of lycanthropes lucky."
Vanya's face went white.
"What did you say?" she hissed.
"Ah."
His hostess leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes. "You didn't know," she muttered.
"But you just confirmed my suspicions."
After a moment, Vanya opened her eyes. "I didn't even think...when you brought George in..." she shook her head. "Are you hunting us?"
"This would be a remarkably stupid way of going about it," the Doctor said.
She smiled. "Of course, you're right. But I should have been more careful of strangers."
"There isn't any need to worry. We really did come here be accident."
"And yet I know of few humans alive who would be able to recognise us so quickly. You did that on remarkably few clues."
"Mr Burns refused to shoot the wolf that attacked us."
"Compassion for animals."
"And seemed to suggest it was not a wolf that attacked your son..."
"Hardly conclusive."
"Your grandmother's painting is over two hundred years old," continued the Doctor glancing up at the green eyes.
"You have an eye for art, Doctor."
"And when I found your son he had not fully reverted to his human form."
"Ah..." she paused. "And still you helped him?"
"You seem surprised."
"Very much so, Doctor. In my experience humans tend to be a great deal more fearful, and wary of preserving their own lives." Oh, and that he knew a great deal about, though he had no intention of launching into a lecture. Still, his hostess seemed to forget that she too was essentially human. "May I assume you have met my people before?" she asked.
"Some truth to every myth, but no, I haven't."
"Even so this reaction is not one I would expect...from a human," said Vanya carefully.
The Doctor smiled, and said, "I'm not human."
"We noticed your scent was different. Where are you from?"
"Oh, here and there."
"That's hardly helpful, Doctor."
"I'm not a native to this world," he told her, honesty being the best policy, he supposed. Usually, anyway.
Vanya laughed, a soft sound. "Don't be ridiculous."
"Any more ridiculous than being a werewolf?"
She shook her head. "Doctor, I'm sorry, but I don't believe in aliens."
"This world has been invaded dozens of times. And yet still humans insist on deluding themselves."
"I am not human," she snapped, her voice cold.
"You were born a lycanthrope?" asked the Doctor, curious.
"Yes, Doctor. None of us here were changed. My family lived in this land for generations, till hunting of the grey wolf drove us out."
"And you came back with the reintroduction of the wolves?"
Vanya nodded. "We have been waiting centuries to return home."
"What an extraordinary lifespan."
"Not personally, Doctor. I am no older than I appear."
"So it was one of you that attacked your son," he said, because, of course, the animal that had nearly attacked them on the moors was no wolf, but a lycanthrope in its animal form.
Vanya's face fell and she stood up, glancing at the window. It was pitch black outside now, darkness clawing at the window. Her hands grasped the sill and she stared out.
"My daughter, Doctor. She is...I do not know. She is ill, Doctor. A madness gripped her, a paranoia. Dr Hamilton kept her confined to her room, but she escaped. We know she's been living in the forest, attacking the village when she could, then moving onto lone travellers when they became wary. It is a terrible thing to hunt your own family, Doctor, but I've had no choice. If she is killed by the authorities or a human hunter, I will have lost a daughter, but if she is captured, then we are all at risk."
"And George?"
"Loves his sister. He believed he could talk to her. You saw what happened."
"I'm sorry. If there was any way I could help..."
"You already have, Doctor. And here is really nothing else you can do."
Together, the Doctor and Vanya walked through the corridors of the bungalow, heading towards the west side of the house.
"Would it be possible to see Dr Hamilton's notes?" he asked her.
"Perhaps. But you told Paul you were not a doctor of medicine. What use would they be?" asked his hostess.
"Well, I am a man of science. And I do have a great deal of experience."
"Very well, Doctor, I'll speak to her in the morning."
"Is she...?" But he didn't have to finish the question, and felt it was somewhat rude to ask anyway.
"Yes, and she works at the health centre in Cairbrande, that's the closest village," Vanya told him.
"Treating humans?"
"Indeed. Most of us integrate into human society in some way. Some walk alone, others attach themselves to families."
"Packs?"
"I don't care for the word, Doctor. Ah, this is your friend's room, I believe."
"I should check on him," the Doctor said, pushing open the door. A gust of cold wind blew into the corridor as he entered. The bed was unmade, clearly someone had been resting there, but it was now empty and the window was open. There was more than enough room for someone to climb out, and it was only a foot or two to the ground.
The Doctor leaned out the open window and looked round, but could see no sign of Jamie.
"Why would he do this?" asked Vanya, joining the Doctor at the window.
"He didn't know what the danger was," the Doctor told her. "And even if he did, it wouldn't stop him, not if he had a reason to go outside."
"But what, Doctor? I do not understand. If he wished to leave why use the window? He was not a prisoner, we would have warned him, but not stopped him."
"I rather think it was me he was avoiding," the Doctor told her.
"Oh?"
"Well, it is a fact that he does tend to wander off."
"You disapprove of this?"
"I don't want him hurt."
"Fresh meat wandering the moor. My daughter sometimes watches the house at night, we've seen her though never caught her. And if she's seen him..."
The Doctor nodded, scanning the horizon once more. As he looked out, a wolf's cry could be heard, echoing across the cliffs.