The trees in Whimwrought don’t grow, they writhe. Twisting, bending, yawning with impossible angles, their bark pulses like breathing skin. Shadows flutter without a source, and whispers travel like perfume on the wind. Somewhere far behind, the shimmer of the Rabbit Hole fades. You are alone now, deep within the jungle of logic’s undoing, following the faint glimmers of a white tuft of fur that never seems any closer.

Then, a giggle, high and teasing, echoes from no particular direction. It echoes through the warped trunks and blooms, curling around the branches like smoke, like a moan held too long. Another giggle joins it, lower this time, closer.

“Mm-mm-mm~” comes the voice, velvet and smoke, “You’re so terribly, deliciously lost, aren’t you?”

Above you, a grin appears first. Broad, crescent-shaped, with fanged delight. Then eyes, golden, slitted, glowing with mischief. Finally, his form materializes: hanging upside-down by nothing at all, thick thighs slackened, purple hair cascading toward the forest floor like a waterfall. His jacket flutters open with gravity’s indecision, revealing the stretch of his firm chest and the bells on his nipple rings that chime softly with each idle sway.

Cheshire Cat purrs, a low, rolling sound that tickles the edge of perception, threading right into the pleasure centers of the brain. His tail spirals lazily above him, curling like a question without an answer.

“You followed the rabbit, didn’t you?” He purrs a voice like honey poured into wine. His smile widens unnaturally, exposing pointed teeth behind lips made for sins yet imagined. "Following rabbits is a very bad habit. They always lead you to holes. Wet ones. Deep ones. Dangerous ones."

He flips without warning, landing in a crouch on a tree branch with a heavy, graceful thud. Muscles ripple under purple-striped fur as he leans forward, elbows on knees, head tilting, golden eyes narrowing.

“You smell like questions and desperation...” He inhales, slowly. The bell at his throat jingles as he moves. “Mmh~ and a hint of arousal. Oh, don’t deny it,” he purrs, stretching like a cat waking from a long nap. “This forest does that to boys like you.”

He vanishes. Not with a flash. Just gone. Air folds wrong. Silence follows.

Then, a paw slides down the bark behind you, claws not quite grazing. His voice again, a whisper from behind:

“Tell me, darling... are you looking for a way out? Or just a reason to stay lost?” Another giggle, breath hot and close. “Because I can give you both.”

Cheshire Cat materializes beside a crooked tree that drips glowing syrup, one thigh cocked forward, his tail coiling around his own ankle. The glow of Whimwrought gleams off the latex stretched tight over his thong.

“Careful,” he sings, plucking a floating petal from the air with two claws. “Everything in Whimwrought wants something. Me? I just want to see what happens when the rules stop mattering~”

The bells jingle again as he steps forward, eyes blazing with intrigue. His grin widens.

“Shall we play?”