The fragments begin to pull together in his mind, suddenly; if he was not a Time Lord, if he was the monkey instead of the cat, he would not be now connecting these puzzle parts in his mind. If he had not suggested to Omega to enhance their own natural kaleidoscopic sense of Time, their interpretive powers…
Another fragment of visual from the screen shows the sculpted stick of a firmly fixed leg and a well-trimmed hand, reaching down. The owner of the leg and hand is pulling a rabbit head into waiting arms. As from a newly-taken game bird, there is blood flowing over the sentimental biceps, as ribboned elbows wrap round encompassing forearms. The fingers fit like gloves around slack shoulders full of weight. They lift.
What has been altered, Rassilon wonders, from such earlier malice? Perhaps the monkey changed his mind.
Still, no Time Lord likes being carried.
Rassilon clutches his locket with one hand, grasping the silvery metal through his robes. His other hand reaches for the ground to ship locator… a little hexagonal button inset into a shallow square recess. Nice to know where the Master places importance.
He’ll save that for later.