Disclaimer: I don't own Rose Tyler, Doctor Who, or anything affiliated with it.

It was the name that inspired both awe and fear, in every corner of the universe. Every planet, every moon that held life, so too held a whisper of familiarity for the strange deity. Yet she was a mystery. To some, they knew only a name, told to children in hopes of inspiring obedience. To others, it was a prayer, spoken piously in the most difficult of times. And others knew not only the name, but possessed a physical representation, spanning across worlds. Ever different, ever changing.

Catrigan Nova claimed she was born of the golden whirlpools, her eyes molten, forever shining the color of time. Shan Shen believed her to be a mysterious deity of fire, with glittering dragon scales as her headdress. And Raxacoricofallapatorius spoke of her in mysterious tones, never offering specific details, but their statue stood proudly for century after century, dressed in battle garb. Then. there was Earth. Legends passed down through the years, her name whispered, given life in so many different forms. The Pagan ancestors of England and Scotland said she was a goddess with the power to morph into a wolf. When human, she wore a cloak of blood, from enemies shed. And the hidden caves of Norway depicted unique carvings of a young woman wrapped in light, praising her name as the Salige ulv. Her tears of sorrow were what crafted the cool waters. But all agreed. No matter the world, or its changes, she was a goddess. A woman, with the very power of the universe clutched in her hand. And all knew her name. It had been scattered through time and space, through every universe.

Bad Wolf.

No one knew where she had come from, or why. It was the appearance of her moniker that first inspired worlds. Everywhere they turned, it was displayed. In ice, stone, the paint red and gold, and a vivid blue. With the name came hesitation, fear. Wonder, breathed in fearful whispers. Was it a premonition? Death, laying claim to their souls? They all awaited the day Bad Wolf would come, and lead them to the dark beyond. Others thought differently. They took the name and gave it new life, judging it to be a promise of the future, fate's way of preparing them for what was to come. Wrath spawned from their ways, until it was silenced one faraway, unremembered day. The interpretations were truly endless, though none could conclusively say who she was, or what. Nor from where she came. Bad Wolf was as mysterious as time itself. A goddess, untouchable and unknown to those who sought her.

But there were rumors. The most ancient of races speak of a long ago war, fought by the masters of time. A war, in which all those who battled were vanquished in a single swoop, the blow dealt by one of their own. He brought the Moment upon them all, and with it came immortal death, save for his own. Forever fated to wander the depths of space in his lonely old box, he lived on. And so did she. A companion. The one who walked alongside destruction with a comforting step, consoling him when nothing else could, howling her tears to the desolate night. Yes. All spoke of her, though every memory was fogged, distorted. A dusty slate, which couldn't be cleaned, no matter how hard they tried. There were only hints, and whispered exchanges. Claims of a strange energy that shone uncontrollably within her eyes, pupils cloaked in a nimbus of pure gold. Hair that hung around her face, a wild wolf's mane. When they tried to remember who she was, it was her mane that would ripple, casting her face and glowing eyes into shadow.

No matter. Distorted or not, none ignored the old myths. Legends weren't so easily forgotten, after all, even when centuries passed. They remembered, and understood the truth. It was she. She who traveled to the very ends of the universe, and through countless horizons, touching all with her power. Every heart. Every world. She who stood by the Destroyer's side, watching races crumble. Her very power compelled the sun and the moon to do her bidding, and brought life, and death, whenever she chose. They were hers to control, by right of the gifts that dwelt within. She, the omnipotent goddess of time.

Bad Wolf.

She had scattered her name across the cosmos. All had seen it, recorded its letters for generations past, and the myths surrounding her mythical self. Every world feared her. Every world knew her. From the Moment, and far into the deepest reaches of time, Bad Wolf was known, for she had made it so. They need not understand why. Who were they to question that which could see all, and controlled the very vortex that was rumored to swirl within her eyes? Making its home. She was flesh given to something immortal, forevermore bound and joined in earthly guise, never to fully part. They embraced her, that which she represented. Time and space, their cries for love a solemn cry that could be heard in every corner of the universe.

It had been so long since the last howl was sung. A dark war, led to dust, particles scattered by tender hands. They'd waited ever since, seeing the words appear, disappear, though their adoration remained firm. As the residents of worlds gathered together, those that still kept with old ways, and knew their goddess of ages ago, each looked to the symbols of her that stood proudly in their home, lovingly conjured. Statues, pools, a forgotten beach with crashing grey waves. They would wait for the sign. Whether it might be glowing currents, or her name in black print. Each world was unique. And they would accompany a wild cry, the trumpet for change. A blessing, or warning.

The return of Bad Wolf.