[ Despite one of the reasons given for her request, Vanessa wouldn’t feel comfortable trying to show off to the Doctor with a poem that Clara kept so physically close for years. She listens with care, and again wonders at how astute Clara might be, or if Vanessa is merely the sort to read too much into every little thing. ]
That one will stay between us, then.
[ She'd rather take care with Clara's dreams, whatever they may become. Vanessa understands well how easily they can collapse and become memories.
They're nearing the final trap, and this time when Vanessa crouches to lift a branch, there lies a rabbit caught in a wire trap. For this creature, dreams are certainly dead and frozen.
It may be difficult for Clara to see from a distance, but Vanessa can tell that the poor animal struggled a bit longer than it should have, given the scattering of pink snow underneath the bush. It must have have noticed the trap a moment too late and tried turning around instead of running through. Better for it to have died in ignorance with a broken neck.
It must have been too choked to call out. Vanessa knows the sounds a dying rabbit can make; it's almost like a small child crying out. Bone chilling. It should have lured a predator, but she can surmise the struggle must have been silent. Poor thing. To die without a voice. ]
It isn't always a clean death. Such is the way of things.
cw: dead animal
That one will stay between us, then.
[ She'd rather take care with Clara's dreams, whatever they may become. Vanessa understands well how easily they can collapse and become memories.
They're nearing the final trap, and this time when Vanessa crouches to lift a branch, there lies a rabbit caught in a wire trap. For this creature, dreams are certainly dead and frozen.
It may be difficult for Clara to see from a distance, but Vanessa can tell that the poor animal struggled a bit longer than it should have, given the scattering of pink snow underneath the bush. It must have have noticed the trap a moment too late and tried turning around instead of running through. Better for it to have died in ignorance with a broken neck.
It must have been too choked to call out. Vanessa knows the sounds a dying rabbit can make; it's almost like a small child crying out. Bone chilling. It should have lured a predator, but she can surmise the struggle must have been silent. Poor thing. To die without a voice. ]
It isn't always a clean death. Such is the way of things.