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what Alice saw there

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Alice wanders through the forest, ignoring the path that lies in front of her.

How much good will a path do? She already knows she is lost. Dinah is gone.

Behind her, the Cat follows, Her eyes glowing in the forest's gloom.

“What are you doing, Alice-my-dove? You are to stick to the path” Dinah mutters.

She sighs.

“Well, if you want something done right, you must do it yourself.”

She turns herself invisible, pausing to ruffle Alice's hair as she flies down toward the path. Making sure that her feet will make prints, she deliberately takes a few noisy steps on the path to Alice's right. She waits a heart-beat. Alice's eyes widen at the paw-like prints Dinah's feet have made.

“Hello?” Alice calls out, “who is there?” Dinah takes a few more steps, making sure her feet leave clear, definitive prints for Alice to follow.

After a moment, the sound of shoes hitting the hard dirt echoes behind Dinah. The Cat continues to lead the Alice through the forest.

“Are you a Cat then?” Alice calls. Dinah freezes, then turns Herself completely incorporeal.

When she notices her guide has stopped, Alice looks around in confusion, circling the last set of prints in front of her.

“Are you the Cheshire Cat?” Alice continues, a hopeful note in her voice.

Dinah turns herself partially corporeal, yet still invisible, and stomps her foot. Alice looks down at the sound, then walks towards this newest set of footprints.

The Cheshire Cat, startling, runs, leaving a messy trail behind Her. As always, Alice chases after Her.

We must follow the story, we must follow the story the blood in Dinah's veins sings.

She runs.

We must not be seen, we must not be seen, the Cat growls, not by Alice, never by Alice, SHE MUST NEVER KNOW WHAT WE ARE

Without her realizing it, the Dinah runs straight through the woods, right towards the field of mushrooms, Alice straight on her heels. Behind her, Alice stumbles and falls, kicking up a cloud of dust. Dinah stops and looks up, as she realizes where they are.

Giving Dinah the wryest of of glances, the Caterpillar sucks in a lungful of his hookah, as Alice climbs to her feet. Alice looks up to see the Caterpillar's rings of smoke.

“Don't worry, my dear. I know quite well who you are.”