The large doors to the Sorting Room opened and in stumbled a frazzled hare in a waistcoat. He was stressed to find no dining table or tea anywhere. He couldn’t smell the delectables of pancakes and muffins, of cookies and sugar, of dates and pudding. He took out his pocket watch, staring at the hands. He moved in to sniff the glass face mutter
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As the internal struggle of madness engulfed the Hare's mind, he was outwardly twitchy and unresponsive. He was in a daze fashion, his hind leg twitched - making it thump against the stones, and his ears had an automatic means to perk up - the right first, while the left ear was limp, and vice-versa.
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Boy, was he scary! It was all Sunflora could do to not go 'eek'.
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Oh crud, did she say that out loud?
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