The Doctor slowed as he saw the massive head of the silvery panther rise to sniff the jagged evening air, casting a liquid shadow across now-razor silver slivers. His hearts thumped harshly with the gravity of the situation, nearly causing him to stumble backwards on weakening legs and paining knees. Old age never did much for running.
His hearts in his dry throat, he swallowed the thick, foul-tasting saliva threatening to choke him now his focus was not on propelling his being as far away as possible. As far away as possible to give Clara enough time to save him…but that's not how the universe decided to play.
The twin suns fell to an exaggerated twilight within the minute of the beast's analysis of its prey, looking for all the world like both predator and unforeseen prey were being blocked of the necessary light….perhaps by a giant card or two. A hand, maybe. His whole plan had been a gamble, and he cursed himself now for that. Come on then you, take the weak old man over the young female. Make it easy on yourself you great ba-The beast's head turned to him. He felt its 4 eyes boring into his chest, though the lilac night was impeding his vision. A twang of dread sliced the Doctor's hearts, a string now snapped, a chord played with an improvised accidental he had not seen coming-for the beast's head turned
away. Of course you did. You're not tired in the least bit are you. Either of us would be an easy dinner, she's simply the tastier of the two. Though he predicted a dark turn of events-aside from the coming of a moonless night- the Doctor hoped the Vilroushka would chose him. He'd thought this deal was easy, thought his decoy was enough to fool the beastie, but now he doubted his hand. He'd been certain he'd played an ace, a king or queen at the least.
He watched the panther's decision with bated breath, in slow motion; his hearts the drums and the duo pulse of his blood the echoes of a lone timpani.
The great cat's ears flicked and the slender jaw ground its teeth…he contemplated his hand.
The peppered face turned to him once more. A 7 of hearts? This is what he lived for-the anticipation, the essence of suspense and the unknown. He licked his parched lips, eyes flashing, daring the creature to make any move whatsoever, because he'd be there.
Watching. Stalking. Waiting. Living.
He felt alive.
It's front paws hit the sliver slivers, incredibly, with two imperceptibly soft thumps. Incredibly, because they were nearly the size of trash can lids.
Those claws alone could individually match the size of his entire hand, spidery fingers and all…
4 of clubs…?
The tail flicked upwards in a pensive, fluid motion. The Doctor stood frozen in the frosted twilight.
3 of hearts
It bent on all fours in preparation for an awesome pounce in some unfathomable direction.
His palms sweated with anxiety.
2 of clubs
His confidence dwindled, seemingly carried off with a subtle breath of wind disturbing the grain. It flickered in the strange lilac-twilight night.
The Vilroushka's head turned heavily towards the Doctor-
An Ace!
He leaned into another step to resume his trek, grinning manically. His triumphant demeanor faded at the sound of another multiple-octave shriek of the wild Vilroushka…and he turned.
For the shriek had not been directed at him.