[ His mind is a bit like this — here they sit together in a wagon on a journey through the desert having a perfectly pleasant conversation, and all the while the Doctor listens attentively, but his mind is leaping forwards and backwards, ten steps ahead, off and away, already thinking through how to help her once they reach Cadens. But he doesn't stop there, no, he's wondering where she's been, where she was before, what Simon has seen and done in his time as a doctor, what worlds they've seen together (if any at all), and how very much they must have been through in their young lives for Simon to be her first wish.
And beneath all of that, ever present, are the thoughts constantly in a loop, the things he's done and seen, the people he'd wish to see right now himself, so many of them long gone that their faces are like a muted glow in the dark, the very deep dark below it all.
For Simon, wherever he may be, the Doctor silently promises to look after her in all the ways he possibly can. It's not to cast doubt on her ability to take care of herself, of course; he never doubts anyone very well capable of it. It's only his nature to worry, to want to help, particularly someone so young and newly arrived. ]
A doctor! I'm one of a sort, myself. I'm called the Doctor, in fact. And a lot of people are shorter than me, I find. Don't know how I managed it, that extra bit of height. But you know, he has an advantage! One inch lower, you see the world differently. The angle of the sun setting, or raindrops hitting my head first before his. Give him an inch less and you give him an inch more of experiences I'll never know.
[ A soft smile at her as she tucks her feet beneath her. ]
I'm starting to see him, he's nearly there, keep going. Straight hair like yours, a little floppy, angular, wavy? Big smile, little smile, or serious most of the time?
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And beneath all of that, ever present, are the thoughts constantly in a loop, the things he's done and seen, the people he'd wish to see right now himself, so many of them long gone that their faces are like a muted glow in the dark, the very deep dark below it all.
For Simon, wherever he may be, the Doctor silently promises to look after her in all the ways he possibly can. It's not to cast doubt on her ability to take care of herself, of course; he never doubts anyone very well capable of it. It's only his nature to worry, to want to help, particularly someone so young and newly arrived. ]
A doctor! I'm one of a sort, myself. I'm called the Doctor, in fact. And a lot of people are shorter than me, I find. Don't know how I managed it, that extra bit of height. But you know, he has an advantage! One inch lower, you see the world differently. The angle of the sun setting, or raindrops hitting my head first before his. Give him an inch less and you give him an inch more of experiences I'll never know.
[ A soft smile at her as she tucks her feet beneath her. ]
I'm starting to see him, he's nearly there, keep going. Straight hair like yours, a little floppy, angular, wavy? Big smile, little smile, or serious most of the time?