![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
were_lemurDoctor Who, the Doctor, all ages, not mine. From ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
comment_fic's prompt "He's beginning to forget what life was like on Gallifrey."
The Doctor still remembers the sights of Gallifrey, both the broad vistas and the minuscule details. But as the years pass, other things have started to slip away from his memory; the scent of crushed red grass or the way it felt pillowed beneath his cheek, the taste of karmine pudding or roasted grockleroots, the weight of his ceremonial collar.
Though he still thinks in Gallifreyan, there are times when he can't remember the sound of the words, or how it felt to touch other minds and render language superfluous.
Sometimes, he feels like he's losing Gallifrey all over again.
comment_fic's prompt "He's beginning to forget what life was like on Gallifrey."The Doctor still remembers the sights of Gallifrey, both the broad vistas and the minuscule details. But as the years pass, other things have started to slip away from his memory; the scent of crushed red grass or the way it felt pillowed beneath his cheek, the taste of karmine pudding or roasted grockleroots, the weight of his ceremonial collar.
Though he still thinks in Gallifreyan, there are times when he can't remember the sound of the words, or how it felt to touch other minds and render language superfluous.
Sometimes, he feels like he's losing Gallifrey all over again.
