A/N: I seem to have a thing for past one-ep characters to come back and meet the Doctor later on. Of course, it pretty much never happens, but I like to imagine it anyway. Hence, the following.
First came the mindless panic. It was dark; impossible to see what, exactly, this creature was, although it was quite clearly not human. There was something in the growling and the unfamiliar shape that seemed to freeze Jethro's mind, to send a chill down his back and make him think of alien life-forms on a diamond planet.
It was towering over Anell, each swipe of its claws coming closer to her head. She screamed again, and the sound broke the spell; Jethro leapt forward and grabbed the end of a burning log from the fire.
"Back!" he shouted. "Get back!"
The words were directed to Anell but the beast moved backwards, too, when the flame got to close. Then with an angered roar and a flash of white fur its arm shot out and knocked the log from Jethro's grip. For a moment, he could only stare up at the yellow eyes, mind stumbling all over again. He was helpless, he was frozen with fear - he was about to die and his last thought would be that now he knew how the Doctor had felt - !
In the terrifying chaos of the moment, Jethro imagined he could hear a tinny buzzing like one of the sounds from the ill-fated cruiser. Only the beast seemed to hear it too, for it lifted its head and screeched before its eyes rolled up and it toppled to the ground.
In the silence that followed, a grinning man dressed in tweed and a bow tie stepped from the trees. He glanced once at Jethro and then at the other scattered, panting teenagers. Then he looked back to Jethro once more and his eyes seemed to harden.
"Andrite," the man said briskly, moving over to the beast that lay groaning in the dirt. "Native species to the sixth moon of Tar, brought to this planet by a circus act. Circus got attacked, the Andrite got free, and I've been tracking him ever since."
"It was going to eat me," Anell gasped.
The man glanced over in irritation. "Eat you? Don't be ridiculous. It was scared; it was trying to defend itself. You humans always have to assume the worst, don't you?"
The hostility in his voice was frightening. Jethro stepped back and when his legs nearly gave out, he sank to the ground. "Who are you?"
The man did not answer. He had pulled something from his pocket and was using it to examine the beast; the tinny buzzing had started again an Jethro wondered if the man's instrument was causing it. He leaned forward, trying to get a better look, and for a moment caught a glimpse of the thick tube with a glowing end. Not quite the same, but similar enough –
"Who are you?" he asked again, and the man turned around, slipping the instrument into his pocket in a practiced movement.
"Who am I?" he asked. His face was still grim; Jethro couldn't understand what could make a man so angry about saving someone's life. "Good for you, asking a person for their name – you learned that lesson well, I see. Well done. I am the Doctor, Jethro. We meet again."