Clara knows his anger isn't directed at her, but even so, his tone makes her wince. Not that the man in white seems affected. They do begin to move toward the dock, though.

She wants it to be a fast boat ride, she doesn't want to talk about this but she knows he'll never let it go. He hates it when anyone does anything for him—he was literally dying in her arms before she had the chance to jump into his time stream. Stubborn man. And now they're so dangerously close to a conversation they can't have.

When the boat docks, Clara exists first, palms sweating as she walks quickly ahead of the Doctor. Putting distance between the two of them only buys her time, a few precious seconds of it before the Doctor is right beside her. What is she going to say? What is he going to ask?

She chances a glance at him once he's close and sucks in a breath of nervous anticipation.