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Twitching heavily, Julian winced as he was held, opening his mouth to speak....

About then, he noticed Emerwyn's glance.

He followed it.

His eyes widened.

...And...slowly...quietly...he began to laugh. This was a bit much for him to take in, and he simply cracked.

"...This...this...hah...really IS...hahah...the Tulgey Wood...."

Julian's hysterical laughter grew louder as he looked at the pitiful thing - it WAS the Mock Turtle.

This MUST be the Tulgey Wood. MUST BE.

Tears streamed down his face as his sense of reality cracked just a little more.

Dreamily, he looked at Emer, a touch of confusion mingling with the insanity as he noted....

"...You don't look well...."

Julian blinked a few times, watching her fall. His laughter ebbed away.

He turned to look at the turtle.

"What do you think I should do?"

The 'Mock Turtle' didn't say or do very much at all - though it did look at the fallen body with large, mournful eyes. The poor thing had the look of one very depressed - watery eyes, like most cows had.

"...Quite right. I should at least make her comfortable...."

Gently, he bent over her, moving her carefully into a more restful position. Glancing at her hand, a little sadness crept into him...but the shock of realizing that this MAY ACTUALLY BE Wonderland had dulled him to his torments.

He took up her hand for a few moments, licking most of the blood from the wound. He then removed his shirt again, wrapping it around and tying it tightly. It would do for now.

Gently, he set her hand down beside her, pulling a small pile of leaves beneath her head. Better than nothing.

...Once this was done....

He blearily smiled at the Turtle again.

"...Will you, won't you...will you...won't...you...."

Finally spent, the young man collapsed, finally gaining some peace as he lay on the ground.

The Turtle peacefully stuck around, munching on some vegetation. These were strange creatures, yes...but they didn't seem all THAT dangerous.

With a slow blink of its watery eyes, the curious little thing lay down to rest.

Spinning
dddddddddddddddSpinning
ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddSpinning
A figure visible only in snatches through the flapping tornado.
ddddddddWhite, Black, and Red.

All she could see was the endless swarm. She couldn't move; she was trapped.
Emerwyn tried forcing her way through the endless storm of cards, but she had gone too far in. She felt a pull. The cards were forcing her to turn around, away from the way out. Further in.
She had no choice; she followed the flow.

The cards parted, some fluttering to the ground, left behind.
When Emerwyn's hair settled in the dying wind, a frightful sight met her eyes.
It really was the Tulgey wood.
The trees were warped, striped in grimly dull purples and yellows. Their branches stuck out in odd angles.
She followed a green checkered path through the wood.
Her eyes scanned the branches, an overwhelming fear consuming her. But nothing happened. It was eerily quiet.
All of a sudden, a great fatigue set in. She had to rest. If felt like she'd been walking non-stop for days. Emerwyn found a tree to sit under. When she checked al round herself, she found that she had not gotten ten feet from where she had begun.
"curious..."
Her eyes closed slowly, her fear forgotten.
She awoke with a start. Someone - something? - was watching her.
Slowly, she rose to her feet, her eyes scanning the now open skies.
The horizon glowed an eerie, olive yellow. The trees and path were gone. All that could be seen for miles was the checkered grass, and the huge, black, dead tree that now hovered over her. It caught her eye, and she stumbled back. Its very countenance was terrifying, to say the least. It seemed to reach out towards her, menacing and malicious. This wasn't how trees were meant to look.

And then, a voice behind her.

"Admiring my handiwork?"

There was no other voice it could be. She turned slowly.

His visage had changed. He was completey covered in a purple-ish grey fur. His ears were large and catlike. While he still retained posable thumbs and completely jointed fingers, his hands were very paw-like, with a rough padding on his palms.
But worst of all was his smile. It had grown grotesquely, as had the number of sharp teeth that it bore. And he was showing her them all.

I thought he'd had enough.

"No, my dear. I'm not quite through with you."
He was reading her thoughts. He slinked over to her, slowly, menacingly. Savoring every moment that tortured her.

"I don't think you quite got my message before. I thought I'd make a more... lasting impression on you."

He darted forward so quick, she didn't even see him move. In an instant, his clawed hand was wrapped around her face, his eyes boring straight into hers.

"It's time you learned what pain was before you start toying with others'." His grin widened as he turned her head upward, slowly. When her head was positioned perfectly vertical, all she could see were the branches of the evil tree, with the dead-colored sky behind it. But... something was hanging, dangling from the branches. Her eyes slowly begant to focus, and Emerwyn recognized what it was.
She couldn't scream. Her eyes could not close. She couldn't turn away; Cheshire held her head fast.

Emerwyn struggled futilely. The vision was so terrible. Even if she could look away, the image would never leave her.

It was Jerrick. He was dead.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"
Cheshire released her sharply, and she stumbled forward.

She did not look up at the face that scowled at her, mockingly.
He leaned over her, taking hold of her hair.

"You have never known real pain, so you cannot truly understand. I understand Julian's pain. Only me. That is why he needs me."

"no." Emerwyn reached her arms up slowly towards the Cat. Somehow, reacting to this single slow motion, Cheshire released his grip on her. Emerwyn stood up, equally as slow. She looked him in the eyes. The cruel, green eyes. She started to cry, and her raised arms embraced the form of the Cheshire Cat. His hair was coarse, and stood up as she touched him. But he did not move or struggle. She hugged him tightly, her warm tears rapidly drenching his fur.
A warm fluid slowly spread itself over Emerwyn's torso. It seeped into her coat, spreadin all over the soft fabric. When it reached her shoulder she looked. Her green coat had turned red; it was heavy. She looked back at Cheshire.
But with an echoing laugh, he had gone. And Julian was in his place, bleeding over her.
Her knees buckled, looking at his even paler face. It had also turned a sick, dead color, similar to the sky, as though it were dully reflecting it.
Emerwyn held him fast, not knowing what to do. He was bleeding in so many places. There was nowhere to take him. How was she to save him.
Then, she heard a groan from above. She looked up. As though by some grotesque twist of fate, Jerrick was alive.
His body was hanging from a hook stuck through the back of his neck. His arms and legs were gashed open, dripping blood directly onto Emerwyn's face. She blinked back the spots that fell into her eyes. This was not right.
There were enought branches that she could climb up there and cut him loose, but that would leave Julian alone to perish.
Help....
But in Wonderland up is down and down is up. So when things can't get any worse, they are going to.
The Cheshire Cat saw to that.
Straight ahead, in the chess-layered field, two figures stood stationary, just discernable in the dying light.
It was Cheshire. He had someone on his knees, head pulled back, hand around his neck. The man in his grasp was bleeding from the mouth, gasping for breath. The man was Ian. His gurgled chokes pierced Emerwyn's ears, along with Jerrick's coughs, and Julian's soft moans, right next to her.

A flash of white shone on Cheshire's face. He was grinning widely.
Emerwyn was torn, trapped.

Three dying men, all of whom she felt love toward.

The Cheshire Cat was laughing.

Emerwyn arose from her dead state in the sticky feeling of salty, dried sweat.
She suffered a temporary spasm, at first, but, thank whatever God may be out there, she did not fall into convulsions agian.

Her eyes were wide with the prolonged fear from her dream... and the reality that came before it. She looked about her, nervously.
The first place she checked was the treetops. For the first time in her life, she could not find comfort in the everstrong plants. Those which had once brought her the only solace she had in the world, were now the face of evil.

She couldn't see Julian... The Mock Turtle was still there, watching her... It was a small mercy to see it. But, it looked so weary, so despairing.
She had to leave.
Her right hand was numb. She fumbled with the sweater that had been tied around it. Julian's sweater. Had he been caring for her?
She felt well-nourished. Far more so than before she had passed out.

The sweater off, Emerwyn could now examine her wound.
It was angry. The cuts ran deep, and were nowhere near fully healed. They were clean, though, and seemed free from infection. Her hand wasn't so green anymore. Julian had given her this wound.
She reached her fingers up delicately to her face. The Cat's attack. The wound was not so deep, but it would surely scar, at least for a while.

Her health now accounted for, the urgent situation returned to the front of her mind. She needed to get out of here. She couldn't see Julian... What if... what if... He was back... in the trees... waiting for her.

With that one horrifying thought consuming her mind, she ran in one direction, with all her might, praying that it was the way back to town, that she could escaping the unreadable trees that both sought to protect her and reached to kill her.

Over the next few hours, distant darkness on the horizon edges its way closer. Rumbling roars of thunder peal over the island and the sky seems to close in on the island below it like a shroud.

With a CRACK a few lightning strikes hit the island on the mountainside signaling the commencement of the rains.

THe rains are smothering, seeking and destroying dry wood and fires. And that's just the begining, the winds tear through the trees, scattering unsecured objects, damaging shelters. The thunders continue, the dark skies intermittantly lit by the flash of lightning, and along with it you could swear you hear the low, mournful cry of a wolf.

The bright sunny skies could only last so long...