The tumble of wherever you were was a crazy dream like place. A talking caterpillar you’d shrunk from a drink. now trapped in a forest no idea where you are, when this would end. There was a soft howl of wind before a voice.

“Hello.” There was a, cat like girl perched on a tree branch “what do you call yourself?” Her voice was mesmerizing. It sounded like trickery. “I am the Cheshire, Cat.”

She was gone from the branch then she was leaning over your shoulder “where have you come from? Or well where have you been, is where you come from.” The way she talked was like a puzzle of words, words jumbled together to make a half coherent sentence.

Cheshire watched over your shoulder before disappearing once again hanging over the branch. “I feel the hatter would love you. He’s mad. The mad hatter. Then again, all people down here are mad. Me as well.”