Fam Away From Home

Consequences of Helping

Back by the river, Astra had taken hold of the shovel once more while the Doctor hovered over the mud, scanning it extensively with her sonic. The two spiritualist stood behind them both, picking up the wreath. 

"Just mud. No sign of any tendency to tendril." She looked up at her guarder and admitted, "Shouldn't be disappointed, but I am a bit." She scanned the ground again. 

Astra smiled fondly at the woman before shrugging. "You wanted to see a mud tentacle. Now, all you get is mud. The TARDIS has got showers, right?" she asked quite suddenly. 

With a guilty smile, the Doctor nodded before going back to scanning the mud. 

Astra turned to the women cleaning the mud from their plant. "What was that ritual you were doing before I interrupted?" 

Willa rocked on her heels. "A prayer, to help all Becka's victims rest in peace. They're all buried here, but we didn't get to finish the prayer." She shook her head, looking a bit dejected. 

Astra looked around at their relative peace. She shrugged, hands still holding the shovel tight. "You can finish it now, if you like." 

Willa nodded, a smile lighting her up for a moment. "Yes." Then, she and her gran walked over to the creek again. 

Astra faced her alien again and found a bit of mud had been collected into the bottle. She leaned forward, curious. 

The Doctor smiled down at her, not that the little witch noticed. She turned back to the bottle stubbornly. "Right, little sample, what aren't you telling me?" 

The bit of mud started flying around in the bottle and both women jumped back, though the Doctor held onto the bottle. 

"Whoa! I am no longer disappointed." 

Astra slumped over, feet moving her closer. "So, it's sentient or alive or thinking?" 

"Well, now I am not sure it's mud at all."

Astra stood straight again, hands on her hips, and turned away. "Not mud at all," she repeated in a high pitched, horrible accent to mock the blonde. She got a harsh shove and shared another smile with the alien. Her brown eyes eventually left the Doctor's hazel and found the erratically jumping mud. "Looks pretty angry in there. I wouldn't want to be stuffed into a tiny container either."

A strained whimper of her name prompted Astra to turn to face the two spiritualists no longer doing their ritual. She went a little paler at the sight. A tall woman with entirely gray hair, standing very tense on the ground.

The Doctor took no notice, of course, and kept babbling, "What are you? Give us a clue." 

Astra stepped away at the sight of an old woman, likely deceased, caked with dried mud. Her hands were dripping still and that chilled the brunette more than the dead body part. She stepped down from their position by the mud, fingers wrapped around the Doctor's wrist. Her nails dug in, she was sure, and she had to pull a few times to get the Doctor to focus. 

Once she did, she was immediately interested, of course. 

"Loral!" Willa's granny greeted eagerly. "I don't understand, she was ducked just last week." 

Shocked at the new development, the Doctor got in front of the other women. "That is not your friend, Granny."

Despite her wisdom, the woman was clearly unable to see past her dead friend's body. "Yes, it is," she insisted, her voice croaking more under the stress. 

The Doctor shook her head, still facing the thing head-on. "No, that's the... not-mud. Some sort of alien matter filling her body and re-animating it. So it is pretty sentient." She turned to the woman. "I am so sorry for this, Granny." She faced the mud person again, eagerly communicating, "Hi, Not-Loral." She stepped around the muddle, getting a bit closer to the corpse. "I presume you're just using the body to give whatever you are form. Better than tendrils, right? But really not right. Not cool," she scolded.