Summary: Asking for directions from aliens can be tricky.
“We’re lost, aren’t we?” Donna gave the Doctor a withering look; for a member of a supposedly advanced race, he was hopeless at getting where he wanted to go.
“Not lost as such,” the Doctor insisted. “Just temporarily misplaced. I’ll ask one of the locals.” He stopped something that looked like a gigantic caterpillar as it approached. “Excuse me, you wouldn’t happen to know the way to Felquinor, would you?”
The caterpillar’s body rippled from one end to the other.
Donna tugged the Doctor’s sleeve. “What’s it doing?”
“Shrugging. It’s a bit difficult to do if you don’t have shoulders.”