It was the Chinese New Year, so, how better to celebrate it than with something soaring? It only seemed natural to start off the tradition right with trapezoid shapes attached to several foot of string, loaned and specifically made for him and his best friend in their high-flying adventure by none other than Mozi and Lu. The warring states era had many plunders, but the creation of the kite was certainly not one of them. It seemed insipidly boring from first glance, but perhaps Sarah could enlighten him. She always seemed to know these things.

As he stepped out of the TARDIS, towering but also superiorly gentle, he shut the door behind him and his feet followed her lead, his long scarf dragging behind. His analytical eyes scanned the skies, the majestic mauve of the grass, but he was open to interpretation, to the new life and lore that awaited them in a situation he rarely found himself in. A planet he had never been.

"Hm.. Did I?" he asked her, slightly put off by his landing this time, of his own steering even. Not particularly proud of the atmosphere, and he related their surroundings akin to the usage and wide array of colors that Van Gogh had often used to manifest his masterpieces -- which, in previous experience, could easily be some sort of artistic metaphor for a well-thought out bear trap. Though, to his knowledge, he had never steered them wrong before -- he was quite certain this was not where he had initially intended.

Sarah seemed pleased with the results all the same.

[ T A G -- sarah jane smith ]

As childish as it was to become somewhat offended by her comment, the lankey man with two hearts wore an aggrieved expression brought on by his best friend's quick comment. "I always get it right," he delivered in a stout retort. His eyebrows met in scrutiny of the lingering sun -- ever so horribly bright at this time of day, and threatening to scorn or burn his brim blue eyes as they marched through the field. He immediately regretted not wearing his favorite floppy hat, and he bared teeth against it.

' Rage, Rage... against the dying of the light. '

Despite his bitterness against the sun setting on the horizon and its radiant nuisance, the curly-haired timelord was not so easily ready to miss the opportunity to enjoy life's little pleasures. Even if he walked in eternality, being functionally immortal as a Gallifreyan or at least very daringly close to it as it were, he still craved the ecstasy and nostalgic bliss of sharing any form of excitement.

That, of course, included the soaring of a certain chinese papercraft.

His legs carried him alongside Sarah, and a toothy grin enveloped his features in spite of his earlier grievances as his kite caught the current of a perfect zephyr that carried it afloat, and high in the sky. He clung to it rather loosely, though it was wrapped around his fingers as to not to lose the precious gift so soon. "Now I know how Benjamin Franklin felt," he mused aloud, sharing a sonder sapphire glance with his brunette companion.

[ T A G -- sarah jane smith ]