[open] The more laws and order are made prominent, the more thieves and robbers there will be.

[mynameonit]

It's the early hours of the morning the day after everyone arrives at the barracks. As the sun breaks over the trees and sends scattershot yellow light through the mist that drifts lazily within the barracks grounds, a long brown shape darts between the buildings. It's hard to get a good look at it, quick as it is--three feet of stocky body,

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[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor has noticed his screwdriver is missing. He has noticed because, broken though it may be, it is still vaguely working, and it's one of the few things he's got left right now. He doesn't even have his coat with him, never mind the TARDIS, and... he loves that screwdriver.

So he has been stalking around the odd little ghost town for some time, occasionally poking his head into a building not currently occupied, rummaging through drawers or cupboards or whatever, and moving on. It is nowhere near a rational search method, and he doesn't have anything to home in on it with, because he usually uses his screwdriver for things like that, and he's also somewhat hampered by the way someone (possibly himself) has tied an awkward sling around one arm on the side with his broken ribs to keep him from moving it too much and hurting himself further. So all in all... this could be a much more productive search.

Of course, it didn't exactly occur to him to just look in plain sight, by the library wall where anyone could walk by and see it. Which is exactly how the Doctor notices it, as he stalks from one side of the barracks to the other and passes by the library.

He stops, catching a flash of silver and blue out of the corner of his eye. Pivots to face it. Blinks a little. "...what?" Well, that's a bit odd.

[mynameonit]

A sharp, annoyed trill greets his question. What is with people today trying to steal her stuff? Nomee plonks herself down at the Doctor's feet, popping up on her hind legs to scold him.

You may look. You may not touch.

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor blinks repeatedly at the otter at his feet. The last time he tried to talk to odd forest creatures... well. Bad things happened. But this one isn't some unknown, terrifying-looking thing. It's an otter. What's the worst that could happen?

"Ah... hello, there." Pause. Is the otter... lecturing him? He thinks it might be. "Can I... help you?"

[mynameonit]

Yes, she is. And scolding him more severely now that he doesn't seem to be listening. Pay attention to her tiny, squeaky words, Doctor.

Apparently she's in a mood to throw things at people. The Doctor doesn't get a marker. He gets a rock.

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor jumps to the side, and it hurts, but it's probably better than getting clipped with a rock being hurled by an irate mustelid. "Oi! None of that! I speak... many many languages, but otter is not one of them, and..." He flails one hand a little indignantly at the pile of stuff. "That's my screwdriver!"

[mynameonit]

Nomee drops onto all fours and stamps, still chattering away in indignation. She turns to her pile, sorting through it briefly before she locates what she thinks to be a suitable offering.

Have a bottle of vodka, Doctor. And go away.

[thatsortofaman]

He raises an eyebrow slowly at that, and considers for a moment before answering.

"...that's very nice of you, but that's a bottle of vodka. Not my screwdriver. If I could just... have that back, please..."

[mynameonit]

She plops the bottle back into her pile and glares up at him. She's not giving you any other options, prissy-pants. You take what you're offered or you take nothing.

Besides, the screwdriver is her favorite.

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor glares back. "What d'you want with a screwdriver anyway? It's broken, and it doesn't do well underwater anyway, and you don't even have any thumbs!"

Yes, he realizes he is trying to talk sense into an otter. Even the Doctor is aware of how ridiculous this is.

[mynameonit]

She blows a raspberry at him and starts chattering indignantly again. Have a few more rocks and a set of keys thrown at your face, Doctor.

And a fish.

Yes, she manifested a fish to throw at you. Aren't you lucky.

[thatsortofaman]

At least one of the rocks ends up clipping him, and a few more bruises were just what he needed in his life right now. And if she's going to keep throwing things at him - was that a fish? - and none of those things are going to be his screwdriver, it seems like he should stop arguing with her and take a different tack.

"A different tack", apparently, involves diving headlong for the screwdriver, completely ignoring the possibility of injuring himself further in the process. It's his screwdriver. He's getting it back, and he's more than willing to wrestle an otter for it if he has to.

[mynameonit]

He'll find himself plunging straight into a rapidly deepening puddle of mud that wasn't there a moment ago.

Also, Nomee is sitting on his back. She smacks him over the head with the screwdriver and leaps away, turning to blow a raspberry at him before running for the gate.

[thatsortofaman]

...well, that was painful and unpleasant and entirely unhelpful.

The Doctor just lies there for a moment, trying to make sense of what just happened, and then lurches to his feet, slipping a bit in the mud, to race after her. What he plans to do when he catches her, he's not sure - that trick with the mud aside, tackling an otter seems like a bad idea no matter what.

[mynameonit]

Nomee squawks indignantly and picks up the pace, shooting around the corner of the gate and heading south alongside the wall.

DANGIT DOCTOR, GIVE UP. SHE WANTS THE SHINY.

[thatsortofaman]

TOO BAD. IT IS HIS SHINY.

Of course, running fast enough to keep up with her? It hurts. It hurts a lot. But he can deal with that if it means getting his screwdriver back.

He skids a little in the turn around the gate, just managing to keep his feet, and tries to put on a bit of speed as they run along the wall. On the bright side, his legs are much longer than hers.