The day after she died, he packed.

He was used to traveling without warning, and, under any normal circumstances, he might've simply gone, but there were things he needed, now. Clothes and money and supplies for someone far tinier and less self-reliant as himself.

The nursemaid filled sachels with tiny clothes and tiny shoes and skins of milk, and he filled bags with jewelry and notes. Things to sell and barter, and plans to keep moving. When he finally raised himself to Arthur's saddle, he felt weighed down with plans and held back by no direction.

This was when he would've asked her what he needed to do next. He didn't doubt she'd tell him. )

Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 1,917

Following this and this by myself and [livejournal.com profile] ambitious_woman, respectively. Based on roleplay in [livejournal.com profile] relativespace.
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The Doctor

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