Video post.

[pearling]

[Persephone is... not actually in her garden. She's sitting on the deck and the stars are behind her. Unfamiliar stars with their unfamiliar stories.]

Now, in the Northern Hemisphere of Earth, the plants are stirring in the ground. They move through it, pressing forth and digging their roots more fully into the soft earth. They grow, moving instinctively towards the sun, fighting through the thawing ground. Winter's slowly shaken off as my mother's relief that I will be returning to her flows from her into the Earth. The world warms, and birds sing and animals start to come together...

And yet I am a prisoner here still.

I tire of this place.

Comments

[Video]

[championoftime]

It's not the mortal thing so much that's condemned her. We've had other wardens similarly biased for or against a race, species, gender preference, creed or religion.

The fault rather lies with the fact not only does she no longer care for them, she's acted on these urges and has the impatience to do so again in the future.

I'm the Doctor, and I'm her warden. Ironically, she's lest trouble than the last "mortal" that was in my care.