The trek back home was a long one, and while his travels around parts of Pentamerone were interesting and a bit adventurous, it was simply good to be home. Home to the endless piles of dirtied teacups, pots, and saucers. Home to the both wonderful and aggravating life with the girl who had wandered strangely into his life twice now.

Night was falling as Hatter made his first step onto the property, stopping only briefly to inspect. Everything seemed to be in sorts, and once that check was successful, he continued up to the door. He nearly knocked before chuckling to himself at what an odd notion that would be, knocking on one's own door when there was surely no one at home except for him, and he would be the one doing the knocking. He brandished a small key ring from the pocket of his coat and listened to the clinging and clanging of metal as he flipped through to find the correct one.

The keys were placed back in their proper place within his pocket as he stepped through the unlocked door, closing the gateway behind him. He was only standing just inside of the threshold for a moment when a strange feeling hit him. Not that it really did any good, he sniffed once, then twice.

Something wasn't right here.

Ozma had moved farther down her path, and found out more, piece by piece, about this world. A snippet here from a traveler, and a bit there for an overheard conversation, or any place else she could get the bits of information she needed.

Her small presence was a blessing for getting information, but she realized quickly, in this place would make it hard to lead a revolt. She had been considering several options, including masking herself back into Tip, but had finally settled on just finding help. She couldn't go at this alone, and the people here didn't seem so thrilled with the situation that she couldn't find those to help her.

She just wasn't sure how to go about it.

So she sat, and waited, and listened patiently for someone. She knew, eventually, it's come.

The mundane thud of the cow's hooves, duller and slower than the gait of a horse, mixed in a strange but somehow fitting harmony with the light, swirling, improvised melody of the flute. There was no recognizable tune; it seemed as though the musician were choosing each note as he played it, selecting them entirely on a whim, soaring high and then abruptly dropping into a little skitter in a lower register, wild and free and undisciplined.

Krishna was in constant motion as he played -- dancing and swaying with his improvised melody one moment, trotting close to the bull and then further away, kicking at clods of dirt along the road and accompanying the motion with a sudden little hiccup of notes -- whatever struck him. It was all a game. His game, his pastime, his play.

And he wandered on and on, a small child beside a great calm cow, traveling further and further into the unknown but regarding the changing landscape with barely a glance. It wasn't interesting to him at all, so why bother?

Things were relatively quiet in Ozland, and that made Knave uncomfortable. Not nervous, because few things made him nervous. Not even the ravings of the Queen worried him greatly. He'd escaped beheading once before; he was certain he could do it again. But lately he'd managed to remain on her good side without trying. Probably because he had no need to rile her up by stealing her treats since one little White Rabbit was keeping him satisfied in the snack department. As for other satisfactions...he was taking his time with those.

But for now, things were quiet and that concerned him, if only because he saw it as the inevitable calm before the storm. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to happen, but he didn't expect things to remain calm and sedate - especially not in a place as genuinely weird as this - for very long.

Tink's impromptu conversation with the king starting the war had taken longer than she expected. But no matter. She had plenty of information to tell Robin now, when she found him. But first, a stop in Ozland. She needed some more of the weird food that made her change sizes. It was getting to be fortuitous having the ability to change sizes.

She had no intention of paying for it however, and had yet to do so. All she needed was to find something - a mushroom, a pastry, a cake, or cookie. Her attention was drawn by an orange cat in boots walking like a person away from a plate of cookies. No one seemed to be watching the cookies at all, and so wouldn't notice if Tink swooped in.

She did so, waiting to make certain no one was watching before she filched a cookie. It was larger than her head, but she carried it with ease up and away from the rest of them. She could eat the one, and then be able to carry the others more easily when she was larger.

She didn't care to hide when she ate them - people in this town seemed used to others growing larger or smaller. She settled by a tree, crossing her booted feet at the ankles, looking at the little cookie before she took several large bites, equaling one normal sized bite from a human-sized person.

It was done. It had been easy, in the frigid heights of the cold Koude Reizen mountains, to build a masterpiece. An ice palace, a place he could call home, one that wouldn't fade and melt in the blinding sun like in the Blasted Lands. It was finally finished and Morozko took his time appreciating it. But appreciating wasn't enough. Not alone. He wanted someone else who could admire its beauty, its perfection. He knew of one woman who would. "Mabb." When he breathed out her name, it was like ice itself, frozen on his lips, and it made him shiver in delight. Mabb was cold, regal, elegant, and something about her just struck him, something besides her affinity for winter and ice and how it seemed to love her.

( He rose, frowning at the henchmen who skipped and slid through his perfect halls. )

Dorothy's heart was racing as she made her way through the crowd. She was dressed for winter in Kansas, thankfully since the wind was a bit chill. Her eyes shifted quickly around, trying to see if she could find her daughter. She paused briefly to dig through her pockets, seeing if she could find a picture of Ozmina by any chance. There was one in her pants pocket, and Dorothy fought back the tears.

"'Cuse me! Have you seen this lil' girl?" She randomly started picking people off of the street and asking them about her daughter. "She has a green umbrella, and her hair is in pigtails... 'Cuse me..." People were starting to avoid her, and it was getting more and more difficult for her to keep the tears from falling.

Just as she was certain she was about to break, a tall, skinny man wearing a huge deep blue hat* smiled widely at her. "Have a very merry unbirthday! Let's have some tea to celebrate!" His gloved hands reached for her, and Dorothy immediately started backing away from him.

"A what now?" Her drawl was thick as she glanced around and realized that people were singing in the streets and dancing in a most odd manner. As she looked away, the man with the large hat grabbed her and started dancing around with her right there along with the rest of the people. Dorothy was normally very accepting of odd situations, but she was worried about her daughter. "Lemme go, please! I gotta find m' daughter..."

"You can find your daughter after we celebrate your unbirthday... Or was it my unbirthday that we were celebrating?" The man eyed her suspiciously as if she was the one making no sense despite the fact that she hadn't said a word about an unbirthday. "It's tea time! We'll be late! Come on!" The man's hand went around her wrist once more and he immediately rushed for the door of the closest tea house... Along with half of the people that had been celebrating on the sidewalk with them. Dorothy nearly got ran over, but the man in the large hat was insistent and made his way into the building.

Wiggling backwards through the crowd, once Dorothy was free from the mob, she took a look around and realized there were still people on the sidewalks. Looking down at her picture of Ozmina, she straightened it out slightly before she started heading for the closest person. "'Cuse me, but have ya seen this lil' girl?"

(*ooc note: No, this man is not supposed to be the Mad Hatter. He's just a random citizen of Oz.)

Ozma stepped daintily, not that she commonly stepped any other way, on to the robe way and shook out her skirts, letting the billowing wind help pick the leaves and bits of debris from them. She was not exactly well dressed for traveling, but had made it in one piece, and generally no worse for wear, so the small girls was pleased. He pleasure showed easily in her face and she finally got herself all straightened up, and looked about the Ozland around her.

It didn't not remind her of home, and at the same time it reminded her quiet a bit of home. Even though this hadn't gone all as planned, or really, much as planned at all, the girl did not seem phased, and set off down the road, hoping she wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb. If it was much like home, no one here really would.

Something about the cheerful, colorful Munchkins unnerved Rabbit on such a primal level that he was absolutely horrified to be near them. Regrettably they produced some of the finest ingredients for confections this side of the Great Sea, so Rabbit had no choice but to visit their district when he did his shopping for his baking. Which, unfortunately, he needed to do if he was going to keep baking for Knave.

The thought of the head of the brute squad had a flush rising to his cheeks, and he was distracted enough that he didn't notice when his fingers accidentally brushed the confectioner's hand as he gathered up his purchases. He was still just as a distracted as he wandered away from the shop, not noticing that he was headed south rather north towards his cottage.

Who: Knave & Rabbit
What: Have dinner. Knave gets quite a taste.
Where: The woods near the edge of Ozland, and Rabbit's cottage
When: After this.
Rating: It gets just a little racy but not so bad.

Peter decided that the best thing to do would be find Tinkerbell. He hadn't seen her since their failed trip into the sleeping woods. It had been meant to help him reclaim some of his magic, perhaps to fly again. It hadn't done anything to help him. He could feel the magic all around, but without his memories to help him it was useless. He'd lost Tink shortly afterward, losing track of her in Ozland as he slunk back towards Estervale in misery.

He figured she'd probably be near, or maybe he could pick up a trail and find her from there. He traveled quickly, spending what was left of the money he had to get there sooner. He wasn't sure where to start, so he just wandered around aimlessly, looking for clues, asking anyone around if they'd seen a little fairy with crazy pink hair.

He stayed closer to the Sleeping Woods now, though he wasn't keen on entering them, not since the last time he'd been had yielded nothing useful. Come on Tink, where are you?

Knave had only an hour, hour and a half maybe before he had to go and present himself and a report to Her Royal Craziness. He had time to kill and he knew just how he wanted to spend it. He crossed the gardens, passing the maze on his left and went for the kitchens. Tea Time was not long after his report would be done, and The Queen herald would be certain to be there, directing the kitchen staff to get everything just right.

Or heads would roll, of course.

But as much as the sweet smells called to Knave, he wasn't there there filch treats, not this time. He was looking for one White Rabbit.

Outside of the small inn within Ozland where Eros invested his time, the God was kneeling on the roof. His fingertips just grazed the tiles as he balanced on the balls of his feet. Behind him his brilliant wings were stretched out, and he sighed. They were stiff, a sign. Looking back with his dangerously gorgeous eyes, the right one twitched. The tip reached up to the sky, the left following suit as a wind picked up. Something felt different about this breeze.

Letting himself be picked up, the handsome man flew into the sky. The white cloth around his middle and flung over his left shoulder flapped around in the atmosphere and he looked down on the town. Something was wrong. Zephyr whispered hurriedly into his ears, the words easily able to be lost on a human were picked up by Cupid. The hollow sound of the Wind Spirit's voice flew at him, and Eros welcomed the company. As of late he had yet to reach his mother, but other spirits were around. Zephyr, a lesser known, had been first to contact him. Though the winds were always with him, this creature was his friend.

"Problems. . ." echoed the young, golden haired man as he opened his arms. The breeze suddenly felt chilled, and his wings closed slightly. With a small tapping of his feet on the roof, Eros looked toward the North. "What's happening here?" he asked, but Zephyr had left him. The winds died to a low gust, and then nothing. Calmness surrounded the inn again, and Eros made his way back into his room. It irked him that he could go nowhere without war or hatred. It pained his heart to know people had to cause pain to make themselves happy. And even then were they really pleased? Eros did not believe so.