The mammoth white panther pounced, landing where Clara had been just seconds before.
The impact of its full weight was enough to unbalance Clara at last, sending her sprawling on the rugged stone, skidding to a halt on her right side in agony; her flesh had been raked the full distance of her exposed right arm and leg with the pain every child remembers vividly from a tragic bike ride or first pair of rollerblades, multiplied exponentially by the sheer length of the exposed skin on rough stone, coupled with the speed she couldn't decide whether to regret or applaud in her current situation.
Breathing heavily through her teeth to keep from yelling in pain, Clara attempted to scramble to the TARDIS door, a mere 6 feet away. As soon as she regained a fraction of her height, a paw the size of a trash can lid swept her off her feet, simultaneously winding her and propelling her to tumble downwards towards the space tree.
Tossed like a rag doll, Clara landed unevenly with a ragged gasp on its roots, nearly invisible in the purple night had it not been for the occasional spiral of golden energy or flashing white stars. For something so abstract, the system could not have been more concrete, much to the dismay of Clara's back, neck, and head. Her spine protested, and muscles were stretched in ways they were not meant to be stretched. The force of the blow had caused startling whiplash, and she couldn't tell if the stars dancing in her eyes were the in tree or her clouded mind.
In a narrowed, dream-like-state, Clara stared upwards into the black web of the tree, the occasional star shooting past in slow-motion.
She saw the sun-monster from her first adventure with bowtie-Doctor, and watched her leaf disintegrate in an unfelt wind, its pieces turned to powder and stardust like the rest of the universe... The golden stardust settled into the gas orbs themselves, the new stars, now to new suns in a toxic-green, electric-blue nebula. Soon clouds being syphoned by a black hole engulfed her vision until she swore it was a magnificent eye staring blankly back at her…she felt herself falling forward, disoriented, into the pupil, and her vision tunneling dizzily back to the darkness of a lavender night.
A figure, clad in black, emerged from the trunk of the tree with a low hum, a single ring of golden light circling and sculpting the seemingly gnarled tree from its base to the tips of its branches. The figure's gangly legs stumbled across her outstretched, numbed foot and the humanoid ducked 'round the tree.
A flash of red silk…
Clara tried to reach a hand towards it, but her arms had not yet regained adequate feeling. The figure, as black as the nothingness-tree itself, stepped gingerly towards the light thrown by the TARDIS. Panic blossomed in her recovering brain-he surely would not leave her like this.
Mustering a breathless croak, she attempted to breach his attention through her frustratingly winded and still-delirious person. "Doc…tor…"
She saw the tall, lanky figure stop in its tracks. For a brief moment, it swiveled to face her before another hurried flash of red silk burned in her vision, a contrast of color in the empty blackness.
The lone figure had vanished in the light of an open police box.
And the door of that police box had closed behind him.
Fresh tears of acrimony and confusion burned away the red silk, although she could not feel if the hot liquid rolling down her face was indeed tears, or blood. Clara was left to contemplate her apparent lack of company as her limbs regained feeling, fraught with pins and needles. Brilliant vanishing act, she thought contemptuously, before admonishing herself instantaneously. Her self-reprimanding did naught, for the nasty little bugger of Guilt had already nestled in beneath her sternum, nice and hot and mocking her heart. How could she think that way? She'd betrayed him because she felt she had a veritable reason to do so…not saying it was right of me, because it wasn't…and I know that. It was very, very wrong, she scolded herself for what may very well have been a thousandth time. Perhaps this was her fate, her consequences for such a grave betrayal. No...he'd said that she meant more to him than betraying could diminish. And she believed him, with all her single, susceptible human heart. He must have a very good reason to leave me here. She wasn't even certain she could move to follow him…
Movement beyond the base of the tree confirmed how very wrong and very not-alone she was.
One thing, she knew for certain was the elephantine, orchid figure blocking her blurred vision. Its head swooped down with unseen grace, a blood-red gullet engulfing her sight...though she had been flung by a bizarre animal into a bizarre tree on a bizarre planet in bizarre circumstances, Clara had been able to regain her wits about her since her head-on collision with the space tree. She rolled, painfully, off the roots of the tree and towards the TARDIS, where she scrambled to rise once again…but the Vilroushka, being an intelligent beast, produced a deafening roar that sent Clara sinking to her knees once more, clinging to the sides of her head, clawing at her ears.
Her hands slick from the cold sweat drenching her hair and neck, they were of no use to her as she was pulled backward by her left foot, her nails raking the redstone at the base of the TARDIS. She screamed as she was pulled back in sudden jerks, as if a dog was playing tug of war with her shoe…which came off with a soft Schluuuck, much to her ankle's relief.
The lone Sketcher held no interest to the wild cat. It pawed at Clara, its razor appendages raking deep rivets into the stone on either side her as she evaded its assault with impulsive rolls. Having misjudged a particularly vicious swipe, Clara held up her bare arms for protection as a result of that inherent, too-human instinct. Her arms formed a fleshy barricade over her face as she saw the cat rise to half its height, swiping downward in quick succession with both enormous paws. She rolled on her side, crying out from the old and new pain, clutching her forearms which were now spilling hot crimson onto the front of her already damp tank top. Tiny pools of the thick, hot liquid blossomed on the redstone ground…which, for an instant, she thought would be her deathbed.
End of Chapter 5