Name: The March Hare<br/>Location: Park<br/>Tagged: Cinnamon, Them, whomever might be easedropping<br/><br/>After storming off The Hare had set out for the Broken Cup to drown his frustrations.  Only, his feet had decided that this might be a better way than that and he'd been to busy wondering about the price of tea in China to correct them.  Of course, feet were rather like animals and children, left to their own devices they wandered off and got into trouble more often than not.  And they certainly made a mess in shoes.<br/><br/>He stopped when he spotted the statue.  Now that wasn't supposed to be here was it?  When had they put a statue of Alice in the tea house?  And for that matter, when had there been a pond with ducks living, dead, and a few stages in between in there?  He scowled hard enough that his brow hurt from it and then gave a long sigh.  He wasn't<em>in</em>the Broken Cup at all!  How dare the park try to deceive him like that.  He had a good mind to give it a talking to.  Only, well, he didn't actually have a good mind and he rather suspected that given how unrepentant it seemed at trying to trick him it would likely not care what he said.<br/><br/>He was grumbling about the impudence of the park and turning when he caught something out of the corner of his eye that he'd missed while he was facing them.  Snapping his head to that side he narrowed his eyes as he found her to still be there.  Oh that double damned park had tried to hide her by distracting him by pretending to be the tea house but he'd seen through all of its obfuscation now.<br/><br/>"Cinnamon Tart!" he barked as he strode into the grassy domain and made his way toward the pair and crossed his arms across his chest while putting on his stern face. "This is the<em>park</em>.  It is not the Broken Cup and it is most certainly not your mother's castle."