“Oh no no little mouse, not like that!” Putting his teacup on the brim of his hat, the tallest man leaned forward and picked me up, placing me closer to him. I immediately pressed my skirt down, the cool air reminding me that my thighs murdered my boxers not even 10 minutes ago.

“We can smell that you’re an Overworlder”

“A whomst?” I stared up at him, able to see right up his sharp nose.

“You’re from above the burrows! With the fresh air! I can smell it in your hair and your clothes” With that, he leaned in and sniffed my hair. I had no issue reaching up and pinching his nose, but it seemed that possibly because of my childish height, he perceived it as playful, gently pinching mine back.

“Now that I think of it, it does smell weird down here-”

“Our air is smelled! It’s how we tell the time” Apparently no longer sluggish, the mouse in red got up on the table and waddled towards me, circling me like a shark as he took in my scent with his little baby nose. “I’ve never sniffed an Overworlder before, and you sniff really good!”

“That’s right Julian! The air here in Wonderland is scented different fragrances depending on the time and place! It covers the overall staleness and lack of fresh air” The hatted man had no issues speaking as I held his nose, but when he stood to his full height I was forced to let go out of fear of being lifted once more.

“Wonderland? That’s the name of this place? Have I been told that before? Did White mention that? He’s not very good at giving out important information – or perhaps he told me and I forgot, my brain is fairly scrambled by now. But God, what a stupid name. I am not feeling wondrous.” I thought to myself, spacing out and not paying attention to a scent themed conversation. By the time I tuned back in, I felt as if I missed nothing important considering that nothing these men say seems to be relevant or of value.

“It smells like tea here ‘cause it’s the Tea Party Garden at tea time!” As he spoke, the rabbit tapped at his pale eye, revealing it to be glass. His nails were long, chipped, and unclean, and seeing them so close to his eye made me wonder just how he got those scars. I was suddenly grateful that the ginger was the grabby one and not this stitched guy with his mismatched jacket and his ridiculous skinny tie.

“Near the Black Gates, it smells of death and despair” A dark and sombre tone caught me off guard, surprising me to see it came from the cheerful hatted man. He seemed to space out for a second before snapping back to his strange reality, happily patting at who I now know as Julian’s curly brown locks. No one reacted to the change, so I guessed it was a common occurrence for either him or the general population of this place and opted to not comment on it out of fear of offending him.

“Talking about death and despair, we should introduce ourselves!” Raising a small teapot, the stitched man bit into the stout, loudly chewing the material that was for some reason much like gum and not at all the expected crunchy. I didn’t even have an opportunity to respond before he spoke again, standing to his full height and even more, stepping up onto his seat.

“I’m March! March April-May June! Skin from July, eye from August”

The ginger stomped a foot on the table, sending decorative cakes and strangely small spoons flying “I’m The Hatter but the case of the matter I lost my real name at the hand of a batter. One swift swing and the sound of a ring my memories were out with a splatter!”

The small boy took the casual route and just raised a chubby little hand, which I shook despite being in shock from Hatters violent yet cheerful rhyme “I’m Julian the Dormouse and I like naps and mushrooms and the colour red and I can eat 7 tarts before I get a tummy ache but it’s a real risky move!”

Immediately I wondered why this sweet child was with these two older men who were literally eating teapots and talking about getting beaten with a bat. Judging by looks, Julian was only around 6 to 7 years old, while the others were maybe mid-20s to early-30s. Are they his parents? There was no physical resemblance, Julian being tanned, March being much darker, and Hatter looking like the closest thing to the sun that he’s ever seen is the red of his hair. Perhaps he was adopted? Are March and Hatter even a couple? They’re not sitting next to each other which isn’t very romantic, but they are having tea together which could be considered romantic if you’re old and boring and have no standards. As I thought, I realised I was still shaking Julian’s tiny baby hand and he was still shaking mine, smiling patiently as if unsure whether to let go or not. Embarrassed, I let go of the hand, instantly noticing the layer of sweat I had left on the boys’ glove which he curiously sniffed before wiping it on the frills of his cravat.

“Oh uh, I’m Ace and I really need to get to wherever the Red Queen is. Also, I’m usually taller. I’m actually an adult; I’ve just recently misplaced some of my height” I wanted to emphasise that I was indeed a full grown man and not just a tiny child. Maybe this will make Hatter change his interactions with me? Surely he wouldn’t lift and carry around an adult no matter how small; or maybe he would, he is a man with a teapot sticking out of his hat after all.

“I hope you find it soon then!” Julian squeaked, nodding his head as if what he had just said was profound and wise, and the others nodded in response as if agreeing.

“Well, you should have said you needed to see the Red Queen sooner! I’m taking Julian there now” Hatter drank out of a cup of sugar and looked at me as if I were a fool.

“I’m pretty sure I said that-”

“Yes Julian is off to get executed and I have to escort him to the courthouse by the castle in the Red Kingdom”

“Wha- Excuse me?!” My voice squeaked so much it was almost a quack. Little Julian’s ears flopped a little.

“Oh yes! Julian is on trial but the judge is incompetent and he will surely be found guilty” Hatter seemed cheerful, but there was a hint of fear in his one bright eye. Before I could question further, the tall man packed his hat with snacks and tea and tiny spoons, picked both Julian and I up like large potatoes, and bowed to March. I rushed to cover myself, tucking the velvet skirt between my legs – it wasn’t long enough to reveal my stark white hide but I felt a rush of concern none the less. Julian merely wriggled, apparently used to the act but not particularly enjoying it, his tail coiling and slapping at the Hatter’s long legs.

“Keep the tea sweet and the sugar hot while I’m gone”

March ate a spoonful of tea leaves along with the spoon.