#rosewolfin

it's too early to meddle. far, far too early. she hadn't planned on crossing path with the doctor ( she hadn't even been looking for him, busy with own plans, busy following own stars ). and yet trouble comes to wherever he sets foot - it's the way of his existence. how many times were they almost destroyed by his ability to find the worst possible moment to land on a planet? how many of the companions he's gathered since her have surely had their old selves burnt to ash by all they've seen?

" careful, missy. " the plan was to do nothing... yet she cannot let the blonde die simply for the sake of bitterness. careful taps on screens have alien devices responding, doors unlocking as black haired woman keeps cape up, eyes avoiding @rosewolfin. " you should go find your guide, he headed eastwards. it's a dangerous place to be wandering alone. "

❝ look, look, look !! ❞ one hand rested gently against roses' waist, both a subtle act of protection and also meant to 𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚎, pulling her closer so that she could see things from exactly the right angle. the doctor's other hand pointed directly forwards, past her ear as he attempted to focus her attention ... on herself. or, rather, the reflection of her, of the two of them, in the large and ornate mirror that hung on the wall. only, there was something not quite right about it, something 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚢 in the way their mirrored versions moved ...

❝ 𝑇𝐻𝐸𝑅𝐸— did you see ?? there's something wrong with our reflections ... there's something in the mirrors. ❞

❛⠀⠀me? the past. any past, from the start of humanity, to twenty years before i was born, i can’t get enough of it.⠀ ❜⠀ ⠀tucked into one of the couches on the tardis library, wrapped up in a too-warm blanket to chase away the cold blasting in from the outside — the doctor insisting the doors needed to stay open for a repair, clara glanced at the new — old? companion with restrained curiosity.

it wasn't often she met someone who could understand.

the danger. the adventure. the temptations of stretching the meaning of the word impossible.

❝ There´s a pattern there. ❞ Side-eyed the door before her gaze drifted back to the table. Mysterious door, lock couldn´t be picked, windows couldn´t be smashed. No way around it but to solve this ridiculous puzzle to open it. ❝ Etched onto the table right there, can´t be seen until you shine a light on it at precisely 45 °. It´s the same as the one on the door. ❞

"and now i don't have a house anymore, so i've got a bone to pick with him about that."

she doesn't, really. how could she? he'd said it killed him. she knows it did. not that she's happy about her house getting destroyed.