» he's like fire and ice and rage. (time_lord) wrote in aternaville, |
Somewhere, on the other side of this little nowhere, the Doctor grew very still. Someone, in the distance, was singing. The tune was unmistakable, but the words were garbled, the melodious voice unintelligible and haunting, but so very familiar.
He glanced over his shoulder, a sense of paranoia settling in and tickling at the recesses of his mind—he knew that voice, would recognize it anywhere . . but it couldn't be. It was a Gallifreyan song, a telepathic marker for another such as himself and that was, well it was impossible. The Time Lord's were gone now, had been, for a long time. The last individual who would have been able to transmit something even remotely close to what he was now hearing, was dead—burned upon a pyre in the middle of nowhere, the only other link to his past made dust.
Around him, foraging in the trees and scurrying across the ground, small animals took no notice to the noise. Nothing seemed changed, didn't even register as far as this world was concerned, but still the song remained. He knitted his brows together, eyes darkening toward the town ahead. The decision to tighten his mental barriers was automatic, required little thought at all, and the noise suffocated and became muffled at the edges of his awareness.
The Doctor continued on his path, the hands in his pockets now fidgeting anxiously with the various objects at his fingertips. There was definitely something going on in this place, but to what end, he couldn't be sure.