It's been a few days. She had a brief row with the TARDIS about how she could-so be a hermit, but the ship refused to let her stay in the zero room. Her telepathy feels somewhat under control - better than before, not exhausted and overused. She hasn't set off the glowing effect in two days, so far. It's progress, she hopes.
Clara has never been to Reynard's cabin. But she asks the Old Girl to find him. She steps out and looks around - mountains and trees, of course, not surprising. She walks to the door slowly, in careful steps, taking slow breaths. She feels calm and terrified at the same time. She wants to see him, and she wants to run right back into the blue box to hide. Braveheart, Clara.
For a while, he'd tried to stay sober and clear headed. A few drinks and then he'd try to distract himself with life, with people. That plan had derailed after his talk with Koschei. It had quickly been replaced by the time honoured tradition of getting completely plastered after Winter. Clara's knocking wakes him with a jolt and his head offers him the distraction he was looking for in the form of a sharp hangover.
Slowly, he makes his way to the door, picking up the flintlock pistol off the table on his way. He keeps the gun hidden behind the door as he opens it a little. The sight of Clara standing there surprises him and it shows. It's then that Reynard is suddenly aware of how rough he must look and how unprepared he is for this conversation. Surprise switches to reluctance as he opens the door wide for her and then walks back inside without a word.
It's straight to the table to set down the pistol and knock back the remaining wine from his cup.
Clara, in her dress with the perfect lines and her hair neatly straightened, looks in sharp contrast to this. She steps inside quietly and closes the door behind her, just standing there for a moment. She's generally so snarky and determined, but now she's wide-eyed and remorseful because this - she's the cause of this. Normally she wouldn't care so terribly much because sometimes things just happen, but she never wanted to hurt him.
She sits down across from him at the table with her hands folded neatly in front of her. She has a pair of small, red gloves on, in an effort to control the telepathy some. "These," she says softly, "they don't have to stay on. It's just to try to....suppress it, some. If at any point you want them gone, just say so."
She takes a slow breath. "I choose you, Reynard. I do. And I realize you're still cross with me. You told me to think, and I did. I thought about you. I wanted to come back. I'm not sure how to fix this or make this work, but I want to. And I'm very sorry for the damage I've done."
This is Spring to him. Spring is hiding away in his one man cabin stepping over clusters of bottles. It's fairly open plan. The table shares its space with a sofa huddled around a fireplace, a desk to one side and a kitchen on the other. Visitors are few and far between, so there's been little need for him to keep it tidy. Thankfully, he doesn't own much to make a mess with.
He watches her and listens to her, then looks into his cup, fingers tapping against it. "You ran to him. After everything I said, your reaction was to run to him."
Comments 84
Clara has never been to Reynard's cabin. But she asks the Old Girl to find him. She steps out and looks around - mountains and trees, of course, not surprising. She walks to the door slowly, in careful steps, taking slow breaths. She feels calm and terrified at the same time. She wants to see him, and she wants to run right back into the blue box to hide. Braveheart, Clara.
She knocks on the door and waits.
Reply
Slowly, he makes his way to the door, picking up the flintlock pistol off the table on his way. He keeps the gun hidden behind the door as he opens it a little. The sight of Clara standing there surprises him and it shows. It's then that Reynard is suddenly aware of how rough he must look and how unprepared he is for this conversation. Surprise switches to reluctance as he opens the door wide for her and then walks back inside without a word.
It's straight to the table to set down the pistol and knock back the remaining wine from his cup.
Reply
She sits down across from him at the table with her hands folded neatly in front of her. She has a pair of small, red gloves on, in an effort to control the telepathy some. "These," she says softly, "they don't have to stay on. It's just to try to....suppress it, some. If at any point you want them gone, just say so."
She takes a slow breath. "I choose you, Reynard. I do. And I realize you're still cross with me. You told me to think, and I did. I thought about you. I wanted to come back. I'm not sure how to fix this or make this work, but I want to. And I'm very sorry for the damage I've done."
Reply
He watches her and listens to her, then looks into his cup, fingers tapping against it. "You ran to him. After everything I said, your reaction was to run to him."
Reply
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