Since Queen Hearts has finally let my companions and myself go (no one was guarding the cell door and we left with Dormy snoring loudly in his sugar bowl), Hatta and myself have currently been drafted into the White King's service as Messenger Pawns. Life is harder in Looking Glass World. It's a war stricken, desolate place sometimes. I wish we could go back to Wonderland, but we're still on the run. The Bread-and-butter-flies remind me daily of the tea parties we were almost forever attending. Hatta seems to be taking the brunt of the misery, though. He insists on makings us all into machines.
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