He struggled to open his eyes as the sudden splitting headache forced him to clench his eyes shut again.
“Aaagh,” groaned the Doctor.
Strange fragrances filled the air, and he heard the sounds of the forest about. The gentle rustling of leaves, birds chirping, mammals scurrying about.
As he attempted to push himself up on his elbows, a gentle voice rang out.
“Easy now, you need to rest,” she told him.
The voice sounded like a young, kind woman.
“Where am I?” he asked as he carefully attempted to open his eyes again.
“You’re in a safe place.”
Dr. Jones slowly started taking his surroundings in. The bed was soft and warm. The interior seemed simple, yet comforting. The wooden walls were adorned with various plants and flowers with a gentle breeze fluttering the curtain.
He looked around but saw no sign of his aid.
“How did I get here?” he attempted.
“I brought you here,” she simply replied.
Dr. Jones couldn’t quite make out where the voice was coming from. He carefully looked about the cottage again but saw no sign of her.
As elusive as the voice was, as quickly she suddenly appeared before him.
To his surprise, she was old and looked quite frail. She slowly but steadily walked towards him, with a steaming cup in her hand.
“Here, drink,” she said as she gestured the cup toward him.
“It will help with your headache.”
There was something about the old lady which created a deep sense of trust within him. It's not something he was accustomed to.
With all that he’d seen over the years, trust was very hard to find.
He gently sipped from the cup as the flavors of the forest filled his body and mind. The sweet, gentle flavours warmed and soothed him in a way he’d never experienced before. Although Dr. Jones was quite adept at making concoctions himself, this was out of his league.
‘She must be a witch,’ he thought.
“Don’t think too loud now.”
Slightly startled, the Doctor looked about the room again, but she was nowhere in sight.
He felt his head become heavy as a deep calm set over him . He wanted to fight back, to find out more, but it was only a few moments later that he fell to rest again.
During his slumber, he heard gentle chants creeping into his dreams. They seemed void of malice, yet images of his past also crept in. The horrors he’d seen and experienced over the years flashed about, just to be dampened again by a gentle voice.
Dr. Jones had no idea how long he’d been asleep for, but when he awoke, he drew a deep, cool, gasping breath.
His head felt as light as a feather, and his thoughts were as clear as day. He turned his palms up and saw no signs of his wounds.
“Where am I, witch?” he asked the unseen woman.
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GIF made for me by an old friend, 
