[ The sound of the gun firing draws a wince from the Doctor, not for any other reason than he loathes that deafening crack, the lingering acrid smell in the air, the knowledge of how swiftly such weapons can inflict destruction. He's known too much of guns in his life for someone who so desperately prefers never to use them.
A dark reminder flashes in his mind, though, for a moment. How often has his reluctance for weapons in turn made those around him play at offense in order to guard his safety? It's a thought that fades as quickly as it surfaces because they don't have time for his spiral of guilt. But, this should have been easy, the perfect plan, to lead the scarecrow away. Instead, Caitlyn had to attack regardless. Too many of his plans recently have failed in similarly grand fashion.
Weaponless himself, the Doctor's instinct is to rely on a scientific calculation: as he takes off running after both the scarecrow and Caitlyn, the momentum involved in launching himself at the creature, given the weight and velocity of his own body, should be enough to fell the foul and malicious monster. Unfortunately, as fast as the Doctor can run, the scarecrow is eluding him and gaining on Caitlyn. What happens next, he can't be sure, but just as the scarecrow seems about to rapidly close the distance between itself and Caitlyn, the Doctor jumps and tackles it to the ground, trying to kick out at its cleaver simultaneously so it can't fly off directionless through the air and inflict any harm. (He hopes, he desperately hopes.) It's a tangle of gangly limbs and loose straw dislodged from the impact of hitting the ground. ]
You know, you are really quite a bother! [ Said with a huffed breath, eyes dark with a lack of mercy now as he clumsily pushes himself to his feet, wasting no time before he reaches for a candle, tossing it at the scarecrow's feet with the intent to set it ablaze and at least buy them a little more time. ]
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A dark reminder flashes in his mind, though, for a moment. How often has his reluctance for weapons in turn made those around him play at offense in order to guard his safety? It's a thought that fades as quickly as it surfaces because they don't have time for his spiral of guilt. But, this should have been easy, the perfect plan, to lead the scarecrow away. Instead, Caitlyn had to attack regardless. Too many of his plans recently have failed in similarly grand fashion.
Weaponless himself, the Doctor's instinct is to rely on a scientific calculation: as he takes off running after both the scarecrow and Caitlyn, the momentum involved in launching himself at the creature, given the weight and velocity of his own body, should be enough to fell the foul and malicious monster. Unfortunately, as fast as the Doctor can run, the scarecrow is eluding him and gaining on Caitlyn. What happens next, he can't be sure, but just as the scarecrow seems about to rapidly close the distance between itself and Caitlyn, the Doctor jumps and tackles it to the ground, trying to kick out at its cleaver simultaneously so it can't fly off directionless through the air and inflict any harm. (He hopes, he desperately hopes.) It's a tangle of gangly limbs and loose straw dislodged from the impact of hitting the ground. ]
You know, you are really quite a bother! [ Said with a huffed breath, eyes dark with a lack of mercy now as he clumsily pushes himself to his feet, wasting no time before he reaches for a candle, tossing it at the scarecrow's feet with the intent to set it ablaze and at least buy them a little more time. ]