“No, I don’t like that face. Stop it. Put that face back. We’re fine. We’re fine. We’re fine.” Weight shifts as he spins where he stands, fingers pushing dark bangs away from his forehead. Think, think, think - there ! “A-ha!” Green eyes settle on a half covered window and in two long strides he’s near it, arms sweeping various implements away as he peers closer. Bars, iron bars, solid..well made... a courtyard on the other side.. Victorian England. Such a nice era. “Whoever was imprisoned here was very lucky, they had a view.” An arched brow in the woman’s direction shows she’s not particular impressed and the doctor frowns, pointing a finger. “I told you to stop looking at me like we’re going to die any moment, Amelia Pond. It hurts. And I can’t think when I’m hurting.”
@thegingerpond s.c