Elphaba's hair bounced off her back as she triasped through magnificent lands. High registers ricocheted past mountains making the world aware of the change in tandem:
The High Preists shameful daughter was about to claim her place in Oz. And there was nothing to be done about it.
Around an incline towards some woods she advanced, merely to pause: a group of animals lounged, seeming particularly out of place. None were talking or singing or even moving.
a hoard of lions remained stoic. Just listening to the gentle breeze and staring lifelessly through beetle black eyes. What?
Something strange tingled in the depths of Elphaba's finger tips. It caused her to rear and sneer. Utterly angered at the tragic display. Every animal from here to Munchkinland could talk.
So why not these marvelous creatures? Perhaps they were stunted. Or had been cursed? Damned to become something worse than even their worse imagination... No. No. No.
She couldn't think like that. Once this treachery was brought to the wizards attention all would be good again.