Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, it annoying belongs to the BBC.
I watch as she looks up at the tree. Tiny raindrops speckle her face, like microscopic jewels, but she pays them no mind. Her blue eyes gaze far away, somewhere I can't reach. The way she holds herself is strange; fluid; like she is floating, suspended by invisible strings. The wind roars and her fire red braid whips against her spine. She backs up, a look of determination on her small face. Her muscles suddenly tense, like a runner waiting for a race to start. She sprints forward, up to the tree, and jumps; hand grasping the lowest limb. In one graceful movement, she swings herself onto to the next branch.
The girl is a panther; lithe and agile, eyes set atop the tree. She climbs higher into the thick foliage. Twigs scratch her arms. A crow gives a caw of warning. She bounds from branch to branch, like she has no weight at all, as if the wind is carrying her higher. I feel like I should intervene, stop her before she stumbles, but then she'll know I've been watching her the whole time.
She reaches the top and looks around. I feel my heart skip as she spots a flash of colour between two twigs and twists to grab at it. She pulls it out. I recognise it, it's my kite; the one I lost last week. Tassels of red and yellow flutter behind it as she casts it to the sky. I creep slowly out of my hiding place; a small row of rose bushes at the park's edge. I'm hesitant but I inch toward the trunk. She looks down, seeing me for the first time.
"Whatchoo looking at," she demands, her Scottish accent prominent. Her eyes narrow, and she looks at me searchingly. I can't bring myself to open my mouth; all I do is stare and point at the kite in her hands. She looks almost disappointed.
"This yours?"
I nod. She throws it down at me.
"Here, have it back. Don't need a kite anyway".
I smile at her. She frowns.
"You don't talk much do you?" She jumps to the limb to her right and sits down. Legs dangling, she teeters on the edge, like she's going to jump.
"Don't," I shout. I'm no genius, but I'm not stupid either. If she jumps from this height she'll definitely break something.
She smiles wickedly, "Hey, so you can talk". She lifts herself up and carefully climbs down the tree instead.
"Why were you up there," I ask once her feet touch soil.
The girl shrugs. "It's got a good view," she says, and turns to walk away.
"Hey, what's your name?" I shout after her.
She spins to face me. "Amelia, Amelia Pond" she calls out matter-a-factly. "What's yours?"
"Rory Williams," I reply, more than a little embarrassed by its plainness. She starts to walk away again, but I stop her. "Hey, wanna hang out some time?" I ask.
She looks taken aback, but smiles. "Sure," she says.
I smile back.