Donald spends the moments during and after they were almost discovered by mechanical monsters in contemplative silence--or maybe simple, complete silence, tensing himself up for a fight. "Apologies for the sudden question, but what are we looking for again?" he asks simply, shadowing Miles as he pokes into a side room.

Something about the behavior of these Cybermen feels... off, to him, but it's a nagging feeling that's grown familiar to him in his scant few months of remembered existence. It's like something is knocking on the outside of his brain, but his mind's at capacity. No conceptual space, sorry, move along. If he ignores it, it'll go away. Usually. So that's what he does.