Some time to think

[chaotic_scribbles]

Sufficed to say, Scribble had made his way back to the TARDIS as quickly as he could; his pace was slow though, as the events of the last few hours finally caught up with his frankly out of shape form. While the water had drained for the most part from the now surfaced city, they still had to wade through knee-high water in places before they finally got into the blue box.

Everything had happened. So much. Scribble had a hard time thinking that this was all real and not some caffeine-induced nightmare like usual. But he knew better than that, especially by now.

As he entered the TARDIS, making way for everyone else, the writer found himself simply... wandering off, down into the corridors of the machine. There wasn't a destination, he just didn't think to stop walking.

".... I should probably try and dry off." he muttered to himself, stopping for only a moment to glance down at his soaked fur. The thought of a warm, drying gust of air came to mind. It made him feel good.

Go ahead. Just then, said gust of air hit Scribble in the face, blowing hard enough to make him sit. On the plus side, his fur was dry now. On the negative side, his eyes were open. Powers are fun, aren't they?

"Yeah... they are." He wasn't in the mood to argue on any meaningful level. Forgetting just why he was in these hallways, he turned around and made back for the terminal room. Maybe he should go find someone else, instead? Primeval was the first pony that came to mind, or maybe Sharpwit and Ako.