"Alright, little lion, which story do you want to hear tonight?" A man wearing a smile addressed a little girl playing with her dolls.
A dramatic pout tugged on her full lips as she looked to her father with wide eyes, "Do I have to go to bed right now?"
A smile pulled on the man's lips as he replied, "Yes, you do. You've got school in the morning. Now, put Queen Quinby and Princess Poppy to bed and pick out a story."
The girl let out a long sigh that sounded far too burdened for the situation at hand. She dragged her feet against the carpet as she approached the large doll house resting in the corner. Taking her time, she tucked her dolls into their respective beds before making her way to her own. She threw her thick duvet back with gusto and burrowed into her plush pillows.
With a chuckle on his lips, her father approached his little drama queen and tucked her into her blankets.
"Now, what do you want to hear, little lion?" The man said with great affection as he tucked an aurulent lock of her unruly mane behind her ear.
"Hm," she pretended to ponder as her face twisted up into an expression of deep thought, "The Golden Lioness!"
A sigh left her father as he knew she'd choose this story. Said stood vigil upon her bed side table, ready to be read to her when her bedtime came.
"I read this story to you a hundred times," the man muttered, opening it's binding to reach the first page.
"So read it a hundred more!" The little girl exclaimed, her hazel eyes shined so brightly her father could swear they were golden.
"Alright, alright," he muttered. "Ready?" The girl nodded. "All cozy?" She nodded again, further burrowing into her bed and cuddling a stuffed lion into her chest further to prove her point. "You don't need any water or need to use the restroom, do you?"
"Dad!"
With a chuckle he calmed his daughter, "Fierce in the golden lioness…"
"Fierce is the golden lioness. With wit quicker than the cheetah and strength more powerful than the tiger, the lioness shows just who the real ruler of the jungle is."
A bronzed hand reached to trace the aged words with a delicate touch.
"You know," an almost raspy alto left the sun kissed woman. "As a kid I held onto every word of this story."
"And now?" A man of identical features inquired, sitting next to her upon a small bed with yellow sheets.
"Now I wonder why a story would call a lion the ruler of the jungle when they aren't found in the jungle."
With a deep chuckle, the man with salt and pepper hair pushed a golden curl behind her shoulder and rubbed her back affectionately. "Now that says everything about the daughter I raised, realistic and far too literal for her own good.
A small grin pulled on her lips, "I think you did a pretty okay job," she nudged her father. "All things considered."
His expression faltered momentarily before his eyes drifted to the lone picture frame resting upon her desk.
With bright golden eyes and a stunning white smile, anyone could gather that the woman in the picture was as happy and satisfied as could be.
The man's lips shifted into a nostalgic upturn, "Your mother would be so proud of you and all that you've accomplished."
A carefree laugh left the girls mouth, "I'm just graduating high school, Dad, not winning the Nobel peace prize." The girl rose from her spot and crossed her childhood bedroom to her bookshelf. She placed the storybook in its place and turned to her father. "Today isn't the end of anything. It's just the beginning."
"You're so wise beyond your years, little lion."
The girl's brows furrowed in an instant; a fire began to brew behind her feline-like eyes at the pet-name. "I'm eighteen, Dad. I'm far too old to go by that silly little name anymore."
A sad look crossed his eyes, "My, how you've grown, Leontyne."
A moment of silence passed between the father and daughter as they simply smiled at one another, accepting the fact that like she said, today was the beginning of something, something far bigger, far greater than she ever could have imagined.
Today, she would meet the Doctor.