The Heart of a Thief(Closed)

[prythian]

The cards were swarming throughout Wonderland, searching for the source of the hands which had been so recently troubling the Queen.

It was not the Cheshire Cat, despite that the hands' tendency to appear and disappear from nowhere was something the cat himself had mastered well.

The Mad Hatter and the March Hare knew nothing about it either, and many of Wonderland's inhabitants were merely seeking a way to prevent their objects from being stolen.

They could find no such way to hide them.

The hands could appear even in the most locked box, past the thickest door, without setting off the most thorough traps.

Now some people would appear in the world... and one of them may even know what the hands were.

[lysander]

The infamous and legendary cowboy of myth, the great and incredible Lysander had been in Wonderland on business. The carnival business, though not exactly a bright and shining standard for those with noble aspirations, entailed a lot of travel and a very flexible schedule. And entertainers saw all a manner of people, from queens of hearts, to pipe-smoking caterpillars.

But he'd found out there was a bounty on a thieving hand the cowboy had ditched the clown act to pursue some real money. And maybe to establish some legitimate revenge on the side. One could only hope.

So there Lysander stood, surrounded by forestry, in his Wonderland gear. His normally pink leather trench coat replaced by a rainbow of feathers, his black hair pulled back into a pony-tail. His knee-high boots were a bright orange color, but aside from that most everything was the same. Especially the pink cowboy hat on his head.

The sunlight filtered through the leaves, in strange patterns and colors, and he was just another part of the scenery, standing stock still with a tattered and worn book held out before him, his gun trained upon it.