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- The Doctor laughed. He actually laughed. She was scared witless and he was leaping over logs and ducking beneath low-reaching branches as if being chased through an alien wood was just another day at the office.
- Her legs burned with the exertion, her lungs ready to burst. She wanted to stop, to drop to the floor—to throw up!—but she knew it would be suicide. She could hear them crashing through the trees behind them, murderously close.
- [---]
- The Doctor pointed straight ahead. 'Run.' She did, not waiting for him to catch up. The Doctor ran behind, barking directions as they pelted through the forest. Left. Right. Over the log. Mind the branch. Down the slope. Up the rise.
- [---]
- 'Please,' Schofield gasped. 'I'm going have to stop. Just for a minute.'
- She leant on a tree, snatching her hand away as she felt the bark contract beneath her fingers.
- [...]
- If only she could get used to the heat. It wasn't like a summer's day at home, or even the dry heat of holidays abroad. She couldn't describe it. The temperature seemed to radiate from the ground itself. She had loosened her collar and rolled up her sleeves, but her blouse was drenched, her mouth so dry that her tongue felt twice its normal size.
- Even the Doctor had stopped running, stripping off his coat, which was now hung casually over his shoulder. He still looked like he was on a Sunday stroll, though, his brow annoyingly free of sweat.
- 'They can't be far behind,' he reminded her as she leant forward, rasping for breath.
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