Name: The March Hare<br/>Location: Park<br/>Tagged: Cinnamon, Them, whomever might be eavesdropping<br/><br/>Hare stalked closer reached with his left hand to seize Cinnamon's hair and pulled her face up while his right hand slipped into his coat with a clinking and a rattling that resulted in him bringing out a brownish bottle that looked as if in another life it had lived in a spice rack.  This was perhaps due to the golden label with 'Cinnamon' in fanciful lettering upon it.  Currently, however, it had a liquid inside it's stoppered confines.  In a feat of dexterity, he cupped the bottle and popped the stoppered lip with that one hand as he twisted her hair in the other.<br/><br/>"Don't waste a drop little tart," he said as he touched the bottle to her cheek, "Mustn't waste those tears.  That's a rule and you've already broken quite enough of the rules for one day haven't you?"<br/><br/>But rather than allow her to answer, he turned and nod and somehow contort his form into a strange half-bow without relinquishing the tart's hair or moving the bottle away from her face.  His hands stayed with her but his eyes drifted over this other curiously and he gave a toothy grin.<br/><br/>"I don't know you yet," he said cheerfully, "And I rather suspect I won't<em>know</em>you for a good while but since this wayward tart seems to have forgotten her manners as well as her place, I shall introduce myself.  I am the March Hare, pleased to meet you whomever you are and whatever your pleasures and hungers might be.  Though I should tell you that this particular tart isn't quite ripe and ready yet if that's your fancy but there are others most eager not far."