“Eight-hundred years…” the First Doctor muttered after Eleven mentioned his age. Eight-hundred years later he’s still fighting Daleks, and using that sonic thing? One still wasn’t convinced of the device’s usefulness, so far only having heard it make that irritating sound. “Does it [i]really[/i] do anything useful other than make that dreadful noise?!” he snapped, almost more aggravated with his future self than the Daleks as he put his hand on one of his ears. 

Observing the Daleks, it almost seemed as if One’s words were making them more courageous. Previously they’d been led to fear Eleven and many of the other later Doctors, but One raised a very good point. “[i]You have no weapons![/i]” one of them shouted as they approached. “[i]You are unarmed![/i]” 

One then realized that two Daleks had approached him from behind on both sides, facing towards Eleven and hoping to distance him away from One more. Turning around, he realized there was a third Dalek right behind him. He raised his hands in the universal “I’m unarmed - don’t shoot me” gesture. Wheels slowly turning in his head, he soon glared back at Eleven and whispered, “800 years of fighting Daleks and you haven’t developed any good defense against them?” he snapped.