WonderLand

"Camp" turned out to be two makeshift burlap tents that looked as if they'd be knocked down by the first stiff wind that blew by, and a flickering, rather pathetic little fire, over which the White Knight and I were roasting sausages stuck on the sharpened ends of a couple of sticks.
It wasn't exactly the Ritz, but I wasn't in much of a position to complain.

The horses were tied to a fallen tree, and were unusually skittish. Griffon still hadn't come back. Silence had fallen between the White Knight and me, as thick as the tendrils of choking black smoke now rising from the little fire.

"Erm, won't the Cat see the smoke?" I asked, finally breaking the heavy silence.

The White Knight shook his head. "No. It's too dark. And even if he could, the forest doesn't work that way. Even if he did see the smoke, he wouldn't be able to track our positon."

"Oh," I replied shortly, not understanding at all and not really wanting to. The silence stretched on. The forest was making all kinds of eerie night-time noises around us. I had almost become used to them. "So," I spoke up again, trying to strike up some sort of conversation to distract me from, well, everything else. "Is your name really 'White Knight'? Or is that just a title?"

"Hm?" The White Knight glanced up at me, seemingly surprised by my question. "Oh. No, that's not my real name. That would be silly!" He replied, as if it were obvious.

"So what's your real name then?" I asked.

"It's.... it's.... erm...." He faltered, and gave me a blank look. "You know, I really can't remember. "

"Really?"

"Not for the life of me."

"How can you not remember your own name?"

"I dunno." He shrugged, strangely unpreturbed by this fact. "I suppose I've just been going by 'White Knight' for so long, I've forgotten my old name."

"I don't think I could ever forget my name." I said, frowning down at the dancing flames licking my sausage. "Alice Riverman I was born, and Alice Riverman I'll die."
I fell silent.
"Alex! Alex! Alex Riverman! Alexandra Riverman!!!" I shouted suddenly, dropping my sausage-on-a-stick and pounding myself upside the head. Glancing up from my self-mutilation party, I saw the White Knight giving me a strange, slightly worried look.

"Don't you look at me like that," I warned sourly. "It isn't my fault. It's you, and all of your crazy friends here in 'WonderLand'. I don't think I'm Alice. I'm sane."
That may have been a rather weak claim, hunched as I was, gripping two fistfuls of my own hair over the sad remains of my gnawed, half eated sausage and glaring into the fire. I suddenly remembered something the Cat had said to me once, about what happened to people from the "other side" who got trapped in WonderLand: "Of course, more often than not their frail little imaginations can't stand the strain and snap, and they eventually are consumed by madness becoming nothing more than gibbering husks of their former selves."
The memory sent a shiver down my spine. Was I finally loosing it too?

"Don't worry, Lady Alex," The White Knight said gently. "I don't think you're crazy."

"Gee, thanks a bunch." I muttered. "I feel much better now that I know the lunatic doesn't consider me crazy." My sarcasm covered up my small sigh of relief. Truth be told, I did feel a little better. I supposed the people here would be able to tell if I was crazy, since they all were themselves.

"Besides, there are much worse things to be worrying about than loosing your mind here in WonderLand." The White Knight added, darkly. My head shot up, and I fixed him with a hard look.

"Yeah? Like what exactly?" I asked him, a little apprehensively. I tried to ignore the rustling in the bushes on the edge of our little camp sight.

"Oh, wild animals for one." The White Knight prodded at the fire, stirring the dying embers back into life. "Bandersnatches and JubJub birds, among other things. There are things out there--out here, really--that no one has ever seen and lived to tell about it. And then, of course, there is the Cat, and the Queen of Hearts's soldiers, who are probably already on our trail." Then he glanced around, as if checking for eavesdroppers, and his voice dropped to a near whisper. "And, if we are very unlucky, the Jabberwocky could be out there as well."

"The Jabberwocky?" I echoed, perplexed. The name sounded familiar... and again, a memory floated back to me, from only three days before--had I really only been here for three days?--something the Dodo had called out to me as I fled into the forest: "You'll regret that, my pet! If the Jabberwocky doesn't get you, the Cat will! Sooner or later, they'll have you!"
And then later, when I had asked the Cat himself about who the Jabberwocky was, he had only replied, "Not 'he', sweets. It. And trust me, you don't want to know."
And now once again, another fearful mention of the Jabberwocky. I felt a shiver run down my spine.

"What... what exactly is the Jabberwocky?" I asked the White Knight. For a long moment, he didn't say anything, instead simply staring into the dancing fire, as if trying to decide how best to answer me.

"The Jabberwocky is... Well, I suppose he is the Queen's right hand man, in a sense. He is her personal guard, her sole confidant, her best friend, and her executioner. He is the man who led her army during the Great War, and the one who now has been the source of most of the Rebellion's losses. He is as wicked and black of heart as the Queen, and twice as blood thirsty. The Queen seeks power; the Jabberwocky simply seeks to cause as much pain as he can. He is a monster; barely even a man. I hope to whatever Gods haven't yet deserted us that you never have to meet him."
The White Knight fell silent again, his gaze lost in the crackling fire.

I copied him, staring at the dancing flames and curling tendrils of smoke as if they could somehow calm my racing mind.

The Jabberwocky. The Cat's betrayal. Hatter and Hare's desperate urges. The job thrust upon me, the task of returning freedom and god knows what else to this crippled world.

It was an awful lot for a circus girl who lived in a trailer to handle.

For the first time since my arrival in WonderLand, a tear slid down my cheek. I hastily wiped it away with the back of my hand, sniffling a little.

“We're... we're gonna be okay, right?” I asked the White Knight, tentatively. He looked up surprised, his soft, light eyes widened.

“Uh... erm, of... of course!” He stammered, a little uncertainly. “Of course we'll be all right. Gryphon and I will see to that.” He went on, more assuredly this time, in a gentle tone.

“Gryphon and I will what now?” Came a snappish voice from the edge of our camp. The Gryphon had finally returned, and now stepped out of the shadows of the forest and into the orange, flickering glow of the firelight. He paused, and looked rather sourly from the White Knight to myself and back again, before doing an abrupt double take, glancing sharply at me with narrowed eyes. “Are you... are you crying?” He asked, almost incredulously.

“What? No!” I snapped, a little too forcefully, again wiping my already dry eyes.

“But you've been crying,” He accused shortly, his lips a thin, tight line.

“I have not!” I denied indignantly.

“What did you do to her?” The Gryphon demanded, rounding on the White Knight.

“Me? I've done nothing!” The Knight replied in an offended tone.

“It wasn't him!” I agreed hotly, coming to the Knight's defense. “I'm not crying, I wasn't crying, and you'll never catch me crying! I don't cry. It's just the...” I searched for an excuse, glancing quickly around our tiny encampment. “It's just the... smoke. From the fire. It's getting in my eyes.”

Gryphon kept his golden gaze fixed upon me for a long moment, as if he was debating whether or not to believe me. In the end, however, he seemed to give the matter up and sat himself down, a little ways apart from me and the Knight, but close enough to the fire so that the flickering light cast dramatic shadows across his worn face.

The White Knight must also have been inspecting the Gryphon, for after a moment of silence broken only by the normal, unsettling noises of the forest around us, he said, “You look awful. Where have you been?”

“Does it matter?” Gryphon grunted, obviously in no mood for chit chat.

“Yes,” The White Knight replied shortly, however, giving the other man little choice. Gryphon heaved a slightly melodramatic sigh.

“If you must know, I ended up doubling back, hiding our trail as best I could and trying to plant a few false leads. I know it won't do any good, especially with the Cat leading the army, but it's better than nothing.”

“That doesn't explain why you look like you've been tossed in a ditch.” The Knight pointed out.

Gryphon grimaced. “The Forest didn't... take kindly to me. It was in a bad mood.”

“Because you shouted at Lady Alice.” The Knight replied simply, as if it were obvious.

“What?” Both the Gryphon and I scoffed simultaneously.

“Oh come now, don't tell me you haven't noticed,” The Knight asked the both of us, his eyebrows raised incredulously. “How ever since the moment we entered the Forest, we've been continuously followed and watched, but not even a single borogrove has so much as poked its snout out of the shadows? That's not normal. It's because of Alice.”

“Alexandra. Just call me Alexandra. You can't mess that us, can you?”

“Well, I did notice the sudden change in atmosphere after I... after we separated.” The Gryphon fell silent, contemplating. “Something very big is going on, and even the Forest knows it. Perhaps we'll get lucky. Maybe the Cat won't find it all that easy to follow us now.”

“Perhaps.” The Knight repeated, frowning. “But I'd rather not take any chances. Come on, we should try to get some sleep. Gryphon, you take the first watch. We'll be up again and moving by dawn.”

There were a few short minutes of bustle, and the next thing I knew three sleeping bags had been laid out close to the dying fire. I was designated to the one in the middle. The White Knight crawled in and wished me goodnight, and I mimicked his actions, suddenly feeling overcome by exhaustion. The material of the bag was rough and itchy, but it was warm, and as I pulled it up to my chin, for a moment I felt almost safe. The light of the fire dwindled, leaving only a faint orange glow cast over the small clearing, and the only sounds were the Knight's deep breathing and the gentle rustling of quiet feet on the outer edges of the camp. They didn't worry me this time. Maybe it was just my sleep fogged brain, but their unknown presence felt almost comforting, protecting.

Just before I slipped off to sleep, Gryphon's soft voice broke through my hazy thoughts.

“Alice? Are you still awake?”

“Hm?”

“Alice, I'm... I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I mean... I still think you're a fool, and completely off your rocker to be defending the Cheshire Cat, but I didn't need to act the way I did, especially since you're relying on me to keep you safe, and I am relying on you to... to, well, save the world. So I'm sorry. I suppose.”

“That's very sweet. I'm sorry too. Now hush, I have to eat this before it's too late.” And I was fast asleep, my words trailing off as darkness came over me.