The fingertips of the arid air ran through the stripped fur. Gray ran into blue, blue engulfed gray. The wind created ripples from the Cat’s smiling face to the tip of the wagging tail as it examined its paw prints on the dry dirt road. Step by step, its turquoise eyes focused on the ground, the Cheshire Cat allowed its paws to bring it to wherever they desired. The land was new, freshly hanged inside a wardrobe, and was teeming with the tendrils of madness. Lathered in the air, laced in every crack of the ground, clipped onto the grass, trees, and traveling animals, madness was everywhere, filling every part of the Cat’s consciousness that was present at that moment.
“Where are we going, dear paws?” The Cat paused to let the answer quiver to life. It scraped past its retracted claws, snaked up its forelimb, and nestled into its ear. The weight of the answer made the Cat’s head heavy, causing the feline to nod repeatedly. “Yes, yes. I am aware, as dear brain has told me, that we are in a wardrobe. How peculiar, isn’t it? But where are we going?” There was another brief moment of silence while the paw’s new response settled in its ears. “You do not know? Since you don’t know then it doesn’t matter where I go.”
The Cheshire Cat’s paws carried on until it brought the feline to the entrance of a city. The buildings towered one another, creating a mountain of bricks, stones, and wood and while the sight itself was maddening, there was a scent that caught the majority of the Cat’s attention. Familiar. And Mad. A grin widened.
“Is that you, dear something that fell down a rabbit hole but is not Alice?”