Cyril

It's easy to believe that rabbits are prey that can be easily startled, but that is merely a well-created ruse. Rabbits are continuously in tune with their surroundings, ever aware of the sound of each and every step, and who it belongs to. Though they may be ready to bolt from danger at a moment's notice, it is a survival instinct, and one that has served them well. The rabbits of Wonderland are different.

They have been spoiled by years of peace, and feel no need to listen to their baser instincts. There were no Jabberwockies to fear, so what would they need to run from?

Cyril had been like them once. He had loved to spend his days tending to the garden, or playing piano, basking in the leisure of it all. That was, until he began to have the strangest of dreams. They started with little more than the sound of small claws scurrying across the floor as he played his favorite piece of music, but with each new dream, they worsened. Now, Cyril cannot stand the thought of sleeping, only succumbing to it when his body demands it of him. This has left him in a constant state of panic, insisting to all he speaks to that the rats were approaching. His mother shakes her head with debelief, the Caterpillar simply exhales smoke while insisting there are no such creatures in Wonderland, and the Prince of Hearts, desperate to keep the peace to uphold his family's legacy, simply laughs off his concern.

But they are all unaware of the dark eyes watching him in the shadows of his mind. The laugh that seems to mock him every night, and continues to ring in his ears even in his waking moments. He constantly grips at his ears in an attempt to silence it, much to the dismay of his family, for a rabbit's ears are most precious indeed. Many times he has attempted to run away from the horrific future that awaited him, jumping from his room window, and screaming bloody murder everys single time he is dragged back home.

"Please, I'm trying to find someone to save us! They're coming for us all!"

"Hush now, Cyril," his mother soothes, "Let's get you to bed, I've prepared some tea to help calm you down."

"Mama," Cyril begs, voice cracking, "Please."

"My dear, we haven't the time for this. You will get a proper rest, and then prepare for the grand ball at the castle tonight. We rabbits are never late, you know."

The clock was ticking, yet even a timekeeper as experienced as Cyril was not aware that the ball would mark the first meeting with the one set to make his premonitions reality— exactly at the stroke of midnight.