The Doctor stumbled out of the TARDIS door, smoke billowing out behind him. He coughed as he leaned against his damaged vessel, sweat upon his brow. His poor old girl; he always seemed to be crashing her, and regenerating always seemed to damage her somehow. The Time Lord looked at his hands curiously, turning them around to see every angle, having forgotten he was someone new. He slowly ran a hand through his hair, glad it wasn’t too long, or too short. He managed to snag a lock and pulled it in front of his wide eyes, and, upon examination, released it with a disappointed sigh.
"Am I ever going to be ginger?" He muttered to himself, and paused at his new voice. After tapping his throat, he looked around, wondering where the TARDIS had crash landed.Shared Oct 01 with 46 notes