• The boy was finished looking around the river. He did not want to see it anymore. He did not want to see the forest anymore. He had to get home now. His new home. The Doctor would be waiting for him intently.
    He worked his way through the forest, past the old tree he had sat under, and into a thicket of vines with thorns. Instead of finding a way to go around them, he put his hand into his pocket, and pulled out the dagger from where it was hiding. Fingers wrapped around the cold silver of the hilt, and he began to hack, slowly at first, then crazily as he realized the vines were much thicker than he had thought.
    He looked up. Sunset was coming fast. He had no time!
    Finally he broke through the vines. They whispered quietly behind him as the evening wind slowly pushed them forward, then back again.
    The boy shook himself to get the dirt residue off of his clothes. The Doctor did not tolerate uncleanliness.
    Before him was a field. He used to play in this field with his dog, whom he was sure was dead by now. That was nearly ten years ago.
    Enough reminiscing, he said to himself. I have to get back.
    The sun began to sink low over the horizon. Anger flashed in his eyes, he should not have stayed out so late!
    Quickly he began to trek down a dirt trail. The field was on an up rise of the ground. He had to travel down the hill-type earth until he came to the gorge.
    Realizing how still far away he was from the Doctor, he began to run, something he rarely ever did anymore.
    Grass turned to sand, green to dead brown, and he knew he was getting closer.
    The sky turned a shade of pink. No time!
    He ran faster still, the air rushing past his ears, making an uncomfortable blowing sound. His feet, shoeless, sank into the hot sand. It had not cooled off from the sun yet.
    Of course, the burning pain on his feet did not slow him. He had become accustomed to pain since his death ten years ago.
    Ah, there it is, he murmured quietly.
    He stopped abruptly at the edge of the gorge. It wasn't that deep. He didn't have to climb down far. The Doctor's cabin was on a ledge below. He could see its roof.
    He looked up at the stars that were just now coming from hiding. He breathed a last breath of fresh air, before ascending down into the stale, dry air of the gorge.
    His hands gripped the jutting ledges as he tried to find a foothold. Yes, there was one. A step further down.
    He knew he didn't have enough time to climb anymore. He had to fall on the Doctor's cabin.
    He closed his eyes and let go of the rocks. The fear of falling had never left him, but his fear of the Doctor's wrath was even more terrifying.
    Thud.
    He landed on the roof. His back was broken. He could tell. The Doctor's roof was made of stone. No wonder. He mocked himself quietly, and he struggled to climb off of the roof. He could barely move. His left side had been paralyzed by the fall. Somehow, he managed it, though, and pushed the door open.
    It swung on silent hinges.
    "What took you so long, Kamaru, fool boy? Look what you did, went off and broke your back! I expect you want me to fix that, don't you?"
    The Doctor seemed in a good mood today.