The Doctor takes a deep breath of air rich with a veritable symphony of aromas. Earthy, spicy, dark, warm, pungent, fruity… his sensitive Time Lord nose is able to separate and categorise them all at a sniff, and he basks in them, relishing every inhalation.
This is an important decision, and he has no intention of rushing it. There’s so much to choose from; nowhere else in the universe has such a comprehensive selection.
“We’ll be here all week at this rate.” Donna sounds impatient. “I mean, tea’s tea.”
The Doctor huffs. “You take all the fun out of choosing.”