By the end of the first week, Hatter had almost been hit sixteen cars, two guys on bikes and a lorry.

Not that Alice was counting the number of times she had almost had heart attacks, or anything.

He couldn't get used to the fact that life on the ground meant he had to pay attention to where he was going, and more importantly, the people who were driving where he always seemed to be going.

On one unfortunate day, however, he did learn the lesson Alice had been trying to teach him, and in a far more harsh way than she had hoped. On this one day, to the discordant cacophony of squealing breaks, bashed horns and swearing from the driver, she had saved his life (yet again) but had could do nothing for his heart.

Alice dragged him away from the road, making promises to buy him a new hat and, if he wanted, she could help him bury the now crushed remains of the hat he now cradled in his shocked and horrified hands. The look of heartbreak didn't leave his eyes for far longer than anyone in her world would mourn for a simple hat, but Alice knew that for someone without much in life, something small meant the world to him.