The Doctor continued in a deep, mostly dreamless sleep, moving through a murky viscous blackness. The dull pain wincing from the scar on his chest soon faded as he sunk in deeper.
Soon, some images came unbidden to him from behind his closed eyelids: the view of Sekorus Three he'd seen once in his fourth incarnation when doing a bit of reading in the TARDIS library...the pale green smattering of bushes and trees he'd seen once he peered out of the TARDIS doors after landing there...and then...a Catkind? This was a female, tall and slender, with calico fur and wearing a long emerald off-the-shoulder evening gown. She spoke, but for some reason he couldn't translate her words, which was unusual since he could speak nearly every language.
"'Scuse me," he mumbled, "I'm sorry, but I can't understand you." (Unbeknownst to him, his sleeping form also mumbled these words -- but half incoherently.) But she looked at him confused...and he wondered why his TARDIS was not translating either. Wait -- was he very far away from the TARDIS?
And in the depths of his dream, he could feel himself focus on her with a steely-eyed gaze, his own face expressionless (he'd not had many good experiences with Catkind). Finally she sniffed him, mumbled something he still couldn't translate, stroked his hair, and then walked away.
Well, he decided inside his dream. That was strange. He hoped that whatever substances the Sekorans had given him hadn't damaged his brain. This deep in sleep, he couldn't tell, and exhaustion fogged through the labyrinth of his mind, curling into its corridors like light gray smoke. Maybe he could better judge things after he woke up. He became partially aware in his sleep -- it edged at the periphery of his senses -- that he was starting to feel cold. His sleeping self mumbled malfan and his body shivered lightly.
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timeasmymeasure
The Doctor
Date: 2015-11-02 06:32 am (UTC)Soon, some images came unbidden to him from behind his closed eyelids: the view of Sekorus Three he'd seen once in his fourth incarnation when doing a bit of reading in the TARDIS library...the pale green smattering of bushes and trees he'd seen once he peered out of the TARDIS doors after landing there...and then...a Catkind? This was a female, tall and slender, with calico fur and wearing a long emerald off-the-shoulder evening gown. She spoke, but for some reason he couldn't translate her words, which was unusual since he could speak nearly every language.
"'Scuse me," he mumbled, "I'm sorry, but I can't understand you." (Unbeknownst to him, his sleeping form also mumbled these words -- but half incoherently.) But she looked at him confused...and he wondered why his TARDIS was not translating either. Wait -- was he very far away from the TARDIS?
And in the depths of his dream, he could feel himself focus on her with a steely-eyed gaze, his own face expressionless (he'd not had many good experiences with Catkind). Finally she sniffed him, mumbled something he still couldn't translate, stroked his hair, and then walked away.
Well, he decided inside his dream. That was strange. He hoped that whatever substances the Sekorans had given him hadn't damaged his brain. This deep in sleep, he couldn't tell, and exhaustion fogged through the labyrinth of his mind, curling into its corridors like light gray smoke. Maybe he could better judge things after he woke up. He became partially aware in his sleep -- it edged at the periphery of his senses -- that he was starting to feel cold. His sleeping self mumbled malfan and his body shivered lightly.