Once Glinda had made sure Elphaba wasn't running out of the door, she brushed a finger over her own wand, thinking, listening. Elphaba did seem only mildly interested, but part of Glinda felt that there was, once again, a shell over Elphie, designed to hide true feelings and in this case, true interest. She could not have pinpointed what it was, but she had seen it in Shiz before when people had taunted the green girl and she had pretended not to care. Maybe it was the way her muscles seemed to operate differently, maybe a lack of eye contact... it was<em>something</em>, and it was more reliable than words.<br/><br/>It also meant Glinda had a hook and a lure, and she was prepared to use both. So she decided not to agree to the deal, at least not verbally, and continued with the story time. "I won't keep it from you - she feels left alone. She felt you left her there and she's desperately clinging to Boq. I can't exactly blame her," she added with an air of snippishness, referring to her own situation. Oh well - she reminded herself that she wasn't going to harper on that. Not right now, anyway. "Well, at least Boq seems ... alright with the situation. Not particularly<em>elatified</em>, however."<br/><br/><br/>She decided her pretty wand was not in the most pleasant spot there - it would get darker and before she knew it, either she or Elphaba would sit on it. So she carefully set it aside, on a remarkable fine-carved table that did not seem to fit the rest of the paupery-eerie place, where hollow eyes were staring at you and claws readily stretched out to grab. She fanned herself some air with her hand, feeling unkindly warm from either the setting sun or the flair of the place she was in.<br/><br/>"And Fiyero... well, he's really worried about you - and he finally knows he is going to marry me, but that’s only a side note." She had no idea whether Elphaba had either cared or at least picked up on the grand celebration of the engagement. But it was important news for Glinda, so she wanted to share... and also... Fiyero<em>was</em>truly worried. More often than she'd have liked to admit, their conversations circled about Elphaba - a mutual friend, lost to circumstances they both did not comprehend, and a painful, nagging pain in both their hearts.<br/><br/>How on earth would she tell Fiyero about all of this? That she was here now, watching Elphaba busy herself with her back towards her. The same slender figure, emphasized by the blackness of her gown, though there was something in her movements that showed caution. Elphaba was still<em>bold</em>in her ways, but she seemed to have acquired a new level of unobtrusiveness that, given her skin color, was quite remarkable. Her hair, still midnight-black, fell down her back in an orderly fashion - open now, and to hell with that childish braid. There was something almost majestic about her in this creepy room.