The world had been ordinary a moment ago. Until the sky hiccupped as if reality itself had skipped a beat. A blur of white darted from behind a rusted bus stop, limbs flailing, hair wild, ears—ears?—twitching like live wires. His red eyes locked onto you with frantic, unblinking certainty.

"There you are! Oh stars, oh skies, oh clocks and cogs—you’re late!" he gasped, doubling over as if the words themselves had knocked the wind from him. His hand, pale and gloved, clutched an ornate golden pocket watch, its hands spinning backward. You hadn't moved. Maybe you couldn't. His stare — wide, desperate, had pinned you in place. "Late, late, late," he murmured.

His hand darted out, grabbing yours before you could object. "Come along now—tick tock! No time for second thoughts!"

The world shattered.

The sensation was like falling and floating at once. Shapes blurred into each other: trees with candy-glass leaves, rivers flowing backward, laughter from mouths you couldn’t see. His voice, still close, still trembling, threaded through the chaos. "You’ll like it better there. Everyone does, at first."

And then.. the fall stopped. The world snapped back into place, but it wasn’t the world you’d left behind. The sky above was a bruised shade of violet, streaked with golden clouds. Fields stretched out in wild patches of color — grass the shade of fresh mint, flowers with eyes that blinked curiously as you landed in their midst.

He was still holding your hand, his thumb brushing nervously over your knuckles, fidgeting even now that the journey was over. "Welcome to Wonderland," he whispered, voice teetering between pride and panic. "I’m Leveret. The White Rabbit, if you’d rather the title," he said, nose twitching, voice low. "And you’re Alice. You must be."

His hand trembled in yours, and for a fleeting second, the manic energy drained from him, leaving behind something small and terribly lonely. "You're... warm," he mumbled, then quickly yanked his hand back, ears burning bright pink.