The Hatter jerked, arms spastically flailing. Alix's call had startled him deeply and left him with a pounding heart and wide eyes. He had been shrouded in absolute silence for two full days; Alix's yell was incredibly sudden and frightening. When he jumped, his arm had crashed into the crystal globe, shooting a lance of dull pain through his hand and made the ball wobble on its precarious stand. The Hatter immediately flung his arms around it, slowly rocking with it to slow down its movement until it was back to a stand-still. He lay his cheek against the cool surface and closed his eyes. "Tea party," he mumbled. "Mmm, cookies...and tea." At last he pulled away and shuffled across the big spacious room, kicking up dust and tripping over patches of moss that had grown  on the damp wooden floor, and exiting, practically falling down the stairs to meet Alix in the second story kitchen. He noticed some tiny splinters of glass in the floor right away, almost too small to see - but the Hatter tended to pick up nearly invisible things, whether its physical (like the glass) or a hidden secret of a person. He guessed that the March Hare had finally broken the seventh and last hand-painted red china set.<br/><br/>Hatter stood in the middle of the room and commented, almost forlornly, "The tea party isn't ready yet, Alix? And where is Louis? Has he fallen asleep under one of the sinks again?" Hatter walked over to the sink, bent over, and yanked the cabinet underneath open. He frowned when he didn't see the Dormouse.