Chapter Text
Many people think I am stupid. You are not a person, but I do not need to let you into my mind to know that you think the same.
I am not stupid.
The other word they use is savage. Most of them mean it as an insult. They think that just because I wear leathers and furs, I am less than them. Or because I do not know as many long words as they do, I am stupid. I did not learn about the world in their fancy schools, and sometimes I believe in things which their science cannot explain.
I am not stupid. But savage?
Yes, it appears that I am. Not in the way they say, but they say what they mean so rarely.
You are nothing. You are less than nothing. Even a spirit would be worth more than you, as an echo of someone who once was. A spirit has a past. You have no body, and you have never had one. You have no life to call your own, creature.
You are nothing. You are a cloud of gas which learned a bunch of long words, and thought that meant you are en-titled to life.
And you hurt my friend.
I would not have cared, if you did not. K-9 was alive, no matter what the others say, and he had no past of his own. He was made by people, like you were. I may have even helped. You are young and alone, in a universe you do not understand. I was like that, once.
But you hurt Narvin. My friend. And for that, I despise you. For that, you will get to see that I really am the savage they call me.
I know what you are thinking. You think I am foolish, as you are a cloud of gas, and the knife at my side cannot touch you. You think I will come into the room with you, and you will take over my mind, and you will be amused as you smother the life out of my pathetic, human, body. You even think I am foolish for caring about him, and in a moment, you will tell me that you were inside his mind. I know you were. You will tell me that he sees me as nothing but a pathetic savage. I will say, I know. You will laugh at me for caring what happens to him. The conversation will continue.
You see? I am no fool, and I do not need any of your tricks to know what others may think. I am a savage, you say, and I am stupid, you say, and I care about a stuffy old Time Lord and I think he cares about me too.
I am the first, and I am the last, and if that makes me stupid as well then so be it.
But I did not come here to talk to you about Narvin. You do not deserve him- any of him. You tried to take his body and mind, and I will not allow that.
You are right, in thinking my knife cannot hurt you. My life was far easier, when beasts in the forest and Tesh warriors alike fell to my blade. But I learned a long time ago that a knife cannot solve every problem.
The Doctor told me that- you know him as well? He tried to teach me that drawing my blade is not always a solution. I learned this. But he wanted to teach me diplomacy. He failed, there.
I am still a savage.
I am just a savage with slightly better weapons than a knife and a pouch full of janus thorns. Weapons that can solve problems which are too tough for my blade.
Can you see, creature? You have no eyes of your own, only those of the people you claim.
No matter. I do not know if you can see it or not, but there is an object on the floor of the room you are in. It is an explosive. Your gas-eous form is flammable, and the room you are trapped in is airtight.
You like to think you are smart, so I do not think you need a stupid savage to explain to you what is going to happen next.
Romana told me that Eminence is a term for someone you respect. I do not respect you, creature, but in my tribe, it was always considered rude to speak ill of the dead.
Goodbye, Your Eminence. I only which I could have made this last longer.