Ginger hair ever shifting, she stands in a moonlight mile, acres of lavender swish-swaying in the summer breeze, gently lifting cloudy fabric. It is midnight when she hears him. Stepping through the purple heather, on his way to find her.
A soft chirping in the ivy, climbing up the hollow tree, a slide of water over pebbles.
He watches, and she is beautiful.
The Doctor has discarded his shoes in favor of padding softly after a towering goddess, roaming aimlessly through a field.
She is still, and he waits.
While he looks on, her hair seems to float on the very air she's breathing, and Doctor dear cannot explain why the night smells of hyacinth and lilac-honey.
Amy Pond looks to the sky, to see all that waits for her there. She feels so big, and so small, but still, she can rise above the hollow-tree and the weeping willow. The ever expanding suns look like rosebuds erupting in the space between worlds.
The Doctor takes lingering steps forward, until he can hear the galaxies whispering in her heart.
She is light in the Abyss, with a starlight smile.
Finally, he stops and stands just beside his lovely Amelia, and he can feel the great Diana's soul leaking out of her, unstoppable and magnificent in every ray of silver light.
Shining luminescence dances upon the fragile atmosphere that is his pale skin, subject to her brilliance.
The goddess turns to face her Doctor, a smile on her face.
There is a universe in her eyes, and nebulae dotted across her skin.
"My Doctor," She says, "My imaginary friend."
Amy turned her face back toward the stars, and to the ever-looming horizon, and the Doctor let his hearts stop, for just a moment.
It was there that they both stood in the approaching fog on a clover leaf carpet, until the purple horizon was shot through with dazzling pink, grey and gold. Looking out on the universe, in a thousand directions all at once, the Raggedy Man and his Moonlight shone together.
As they would do, from now until forever.