[ Clara's not paying attention to where she's going. She's still worn out from the day but knows she isn't going to be able to sleep anytime soon. She's emotionally and physically spent and yet all she can do is keep walking, her exhausted way of running.
She's already been to the Shrine and now she's simply wandering. There's no sneaking up on Obi-Wan, too much crunching underfoot and she's not trying to be stealthy. But she still hears his words, faintly on the breeze. She stops, not quite behind him but to the side. Master means something so much different to her, to the point her spine pricks in faint alarm. Master, Missy, whoever they called themselves, they were terrifying. She never thought she could dislike one title so much. But it's Obi-Wan, and he's about as far from someone who would think the Master endearing as he could be.
Clara does recognize that his tone isn't light, and she thinks back to only a little bit ago when she left the soufflé and thought of her mother. There were no familiar ghosts, but she felt haunted all the same. By her mother, by Sabine, by the Doctor himself. A younger version with floppy hair and big smile who still knew her. She isn't surprised to see someone else lingering as well.
Smiling just a little, she offers a small wave. ]
Sorry, didn't mean to bother you. I can go, we can always talk later.
memories }
She's already been to the Shrine and now she's simply wandering. There's no sneaking up on Obi-Wan, too much crunching underfoot and she's not trying to be stealthy. But she still hears his words, faintly on the breeze. She stops, not quite behind him but to the side. Master means something so much different to her, to the point her spine pricks in faint alarm. Master, Missy, whoever they called themselves, they were terrifying. She never thought she could dislike one title so much. But it's Obi-Wan, and he's about as far from someone who would think the Master endearing as he could be.
Clara does recognize that his tone isn't light, and she thinks back to only a little bit ago when she left the soufflé and thought of her mother. There were no familiar ghosts, but she felt haunted all the same. By her mother, by Sabine, by the Doctor himself. A younger version with floppy hair and big smile who still knew her. She isn't surprised to see someone else lingering as well.
Smiling just a little, she offers a small wave. ]
Sorry, didn't mean to bother you. I can go, we can always talk later.