Rory wasn’t sure how long he had been here, but he had settled into a routine. This was to be his life for the foreseeable future, and he was too distracted by trying to survive to count the days. Most of his time was spent hunting and foraging, and today was no different. It was strange to think he had once been the soldier of an advanced organization, because the wilderness had certainly turned him into something else. Essentially, to whatever intelligent species lived here, he was a wild animal. All he could hope for was to live peacefully out of sight.
Rory froze when he heard the sound of footsteps, and then felt the need to run when he heard branches snapping. Something was approaching, and it was either a creature too big for him to hunt, or something intelligent. The last thing he wanted was to be seen. He was too far from the cave he had made his home to hide in it, and he looked around for any sort of hiding spot, panicking. As a last resort, he slipped behind a tree, knowing it was a pathetic place to hide, but there was nowhere else. He kept himself still, praying that the creature would pass and leave him alone.
“Will - you - slow - down - you - great - lump?”
The panting ulgrith had loped along the base of the mountains, having picked up on an unusual scent, and was quite content to lug its rider along in spite of numerous protests. It wasn’t uncommon for Laila and Stitch (the joke was not lost) to explore the more hospitable parts of Gallifrey’s mountain ranges or even the less kind stretches of the wastes. However they were more accustomed to a later timeline and, whilst a human was not strange to find these days, there would be very few outside civilisation.
At last Stitch slowed to a prowl and pushed his way through the undergrowth, gradually showing more consideration for his Gallifreyan companion so as not to let her collide with low branches. He snuffled and grumbled, close enough now for Laila to become aware of the presence of someone hiding.
She slipped off from her pet’s back, approaching a very particular tree on a parallel curving vector from Stitch. Barely a few feet away she signalled for him to wait. Whoever was lurking there was likely afraid, slightly less likely hostile. It was better to be prepared.
“If you mean us no harm, we won’t hurt you,” she called. “If you’re not from here don’t be scared that I’m speaking your language. It’s being translated. Can you talk to me?”
