Clara rolled her eyes in disdain at his useless-but pragmatic-response. Really? Run? That's all you got for me I'VE BEEN FLIPPIN' RUNNING THE ENTIRE DAY! If he'd been within distance, he would have received a well-deserved smack and the best teacher-look she could muster. Breaths coming in deep gasps, she pressed further, focusing on her footwork. It would not do to trip now.
Her still-frantic heart hammered in her ears, forcing high-pressured blood through her pulsing neck…she knew she was slightly dehydrated. Maybe that's why every—single—heartbeat thrummed so deeply and forcefully she could feel it pound through her veins without the need to physically touch the straining pulse of her neck. And everything ached…her aching muscles screamed for oxygen, were practically Sirens lost in a puddle of rain. The chilled oxygen she gasped was beckoned to the indefatigable monsters, never to satisfy their needs, their hunger. Her finish line in sight, she pressed on, hardly able to ignore the burning protests of her limbs.
After checking the next few feet were clear of obstacles, she whipped her head around to track her progress against the beast. The Vilroushka snarled, its spine contracting loosely to allow its enormous, peppered, muscled limbs to reach forward, for her. It was making twice the distance in the same amount of time, obvious for the savannah cat. A sick feeling in her stomach told her it wouldn't be very long before…
And that's when she saw a flash of red shooting horizontally across her vision under the starlight. Multiple flashes of the red silk she felt like she'd known forever but had only just met…The lapels of the Doctor's jacket shone in snatches across the alien terrain, forcing the corners of her open mouth to curl into an ecstatic grin delirious from exhaustion.
The Vilroushka seemed to take this as its prey bearing its teeth, and flashed its double set of ink-black eyes with a menacing yowl.
Clara whipped her head forward as the noise sent a cold shiver down her sweaty neck. The animal instinct returned anew, prompting her to run harder. She jarred her ankles with each step, trusting in the Doctor to complete whatever clever thing he'd thought up with the utmost possible speed. He just needs time, she told herself, and her will power was the only thing she could contribute at the moment. Spurred on by the confidence in her best friend, she raised her chin a little higher and shoved past the constricting muscles in her chest that seemed intent on making her breaths come short and painfully.
Clara surveyed her race course. The viscous purple night seemed to be creeping towards her, even though she knew, for a fact, she was the one rushing through it. Restless shadows appeared to flicker in the reflections of the silver terrain, the rocks surrounded with writhing tendrils of darkness and nothingness. The twin space-tree's black outline grew fainter as the natural night rolled in, leaving her guide to be the windows, sign, and light on top of that lovely police box parked beneath it.
All the same, the liquid shadows felt like they were watching her, stalking her, waiting for her…One mesmerizing possibility flickered across her exhausted, oxygen and water deprived mind…the shadows were living. Clara Oswin Oswald, you listen to me, she thought to herself, never you mind if the shadows are alive. And just because they are-MAY BE-it doesn't mean they want to eat you too. You're just making this up because you're tired. They aren't actually moving. You are, so FOCUS! She mentally screamed the last bit, as she nearly misjudged the height of a red boulder that seemingly sprang out of nowhere. Forcing the thought out of her mind, she tunneled her vision to the police box beacon near the imperceptible space-tree.
She felt as if she was looking through a port hole on a silver sea, the lantern atop the blue lighthouse her way to safety and home and a nice cuppa…Her world began to rock and sway with the waves of the metallic ocean, the porthole growing dimmer…
...until a sudden motion of her right arm gave her a stiff clip of the jaw, rudely awakening her with a bit tongue that caused hot tears to simmer in the corners of her eyes. She'd veered off course a couple degrees in her alarming power nap, unbalancing her. Like the Doctor said, she allowed a weak chuckle internally, standing-up catnaps.
The TARDIS' light shone clear in the chilled, deep purple night; the far reaches of the circumference illuminated the future obstacles Clara would have to avoid, revealing a patchy transition of the silver grain to uneven redstone. If the wonderful blue police box had not been parked dutifully under the nonexistent shade of the space tree, Clara doubted she'd ever have found it. A stark black statue for the light, and a beacon for the dark.
Almost there. She could hear the Vilroushka gaining, her heart thumping 4 times the speed of the steady bounds of its powerful legs. Her aching legs began to tremor with each impact of the panther's ginormous paws. The TARDIS was unbearably close, the wild panther unbearably closer. It was difficult to keep upright with the miniature earthquakes assailing the ground, her ankles already sore and weakened from running on the unforgiving stone-like earth. Earth? She'd forgotten the name of the planet. But never mind that, she's being chased by a 9-foot long wilder beast in the dead of an alien night.
Oh, please be open please please please plea-she sobbed mentally, pulling the TARDIS key from her sweaty tank top just in case the door was locked. She never found out if it was.