Chapter Text
“Doctor Dillamond, may I ask something?”
Doctor Dillamond pauses at Ephaba’s question. He quirks his head to the side, inviting Elphaba to come closer instead of stilling in her place like that. “Ask away,” he says, as he moves from the blackboard to his desk. “You know that I will always entertain your questions, Miss Elphaba. No matter how silly they are.”
The green-skinned girl smiles gratefully. “I am well aware. Thank you, Doctor Dillamond.”
“Now, regarding your question?”
“Well, I am just curious,” Elphaba moves closer tentatively, voice dropping in hesitation. “Are there other active Animal professors aside from you, sir?”
Doctor Dillamond frowns, shaking his head after a beat of silence. He moves over to his desk to admire his peonies for a brief minute before he looks back at Elphaba. “No, Miss Elphaba. I’m afraid that I am the only active Animal teacher in Shiz in this period. The others are still on leave, just like Professor Cobalt, as you mayknow. Why do you ask so?”
“Well,” Elphaba opens her mouth, blinking thoughtfully before deciding to close it again. She offers a tight smile to the goat teacher. “I’m just curious, that’s all.”
“Hmm.” Doctor Dillamond nods. There’s a hint of curiosity in his eyes, but he lets it go. “Very well. Run along for now, Miss Elphaba.”
“Of course,” Elphaba bows her head respectfully, beaming a similarly kind smile at him. “Have a good day, Doctor Dillamond.”
Elphaba often goes to the woods whenever the library is flocked with students or when Galinda’s cliques come to visit her in their shared room. While Elphaba can easily mute the sounds to focus on her books, catching the sights of people just wear her out immensely. She’s too much of a loner to can even stand the presence of other human beings except for her little sister.
Today is one of those days, where the library is much too crowded and Elphaba feels too lazy to climb upstairs and see if Galinda and her friends are in their room. Taking a sharp turn to the left and kindly borrowing a bicycle left by its owner, Elphaba pedals into the woods.
She finds her usual spot then, a clearing with several weathered benches circling a statue of the founder of Shiz. Parking the bicycle against her usual bench, the only one that have a lit lamp nearby, she takes a moment to observe the sights around her. Perhaps she’s being too paranoid, but she swears something is watching her. There’s also usually some students linger around here to do whatever they are doing, but today, Elphaba swears she’s alone. There are no humans in sight, as far as she can see.
But it’s not like anything will assault her out of nowhere! The woods might be… the woods , but it’s safe. Just like Madam Morrible assured them. That’s why Elphaba visits often, to find a certain peace that the university grounds can’t afford.
There’s a whine that catches her attention. The same whine that almost always greets her whenever the woods have no other visitor other than herself, but never to the point of disturbing her. The sound always pop out occasionally, as if announcing that Elphaba isn’t alone. The high-pitched sound has always been a stark contrast among the usual silence or even gentle rustles of the leaves.
But this time, Elphaba feels that something in that Animal’s voice is calling to her, deliberately. It forces Elphaba to stop reading and focuses her hearing to listen.
Now that she focuses on its’ voice, she’s sure that the whining comes from an Animal. But what kind of Animal they are, Elphaba can’t put a finger on anything. She closes the book on her lap, then rouses herself to stand, verdant eyes raking along the scenery. It’s getting dark, she notices, almost time for dinner.
Just when Elphaba is about to give up on trying to find the source of the sound, the whine appears again. Closer, this time. She has no choice but to investigate.
“Oh, hello there.”
There’s a dog. Elphaba rarely sees dogs in her life in Munchkinland, but this is definitely a dog. Definitely not a wolf with that small size.
The dog is on the ground, hiding between the tall grasses just behind the bench Elphaba is sitting. Since when it is there, Elphaba has no idea. Maybe the dog has been there since the start, when she first felt as if she was not alone in this area.
She wonders how she could miss it—because the dog’s fur is a beautiful shade of gold. It’s a stark contrast against the green surroundings.
(Its fur reminds her of Galinda’s blonde hair, but then again, Galinda would probably throw a tantrum if she ever compared her perfectly beautiful shimmering blonde hair to an animal’s coat.)
(But then again, Galinda doesn’t appreciate Elphaba talking to her. At all.)
The dog barks and wags its tail. Elphaba blinks.
“You can’t talk?”
The dog makes a movement like it's shrugging.
“You can understand me?”
Bark.
Now that’s strange. She haven’t met any animal that can’t talk but still able to understand. Not that she often encountered animals that couldn’t talk around Shiz, either. In Munchkindland woods, they are plenty—but that’s because they aren’t exposed to human.
“Oh.” Elphaba lets out, blinking awkwardly again at the finding. She crouches so she’s on its eye-level, with her noting the hesitation evident in the animal’s dark brown eyes. Ah, it might be afraid of her unnatural green skin. Or maybe, it’s startled because she’s moving too close suddenly. “So, uhm, what are you doing here? Can I help you?”
It straightens its back, raising its paw. Something is sticking out between its furry little paw. It’s small and barely noticeable, but it’s there.
“Do you want me to take it out?” Elphaba fixes her glasses as she guesses, reaching her hand. The dog puts its paw on top of hers. “I have a tweezer in my bag, but it’s going to be a bit painful still. Are you okay with that?”
The dog barks, tail wagging. Elphaba takes it as a yes. She feels a little silly talking to a creature that can’t talk back, but at least the dog understands her and responds to her accordingly.
With now a tweezer on her hand, she preps the wounded paw on her hand. “Alright. Let me—” with a swift movement, she pulls it out with her tweezer. The dog yelps, but once it realizes that it’s freed of pain, it begins to jump around in joy.
The dog then pauses, turning around to bark and moves closer to Elphaba, tail wagging side to side.
That puts Elphaba in a very awkward situation. It seems like it wants to be… petted? Or is she simply being presumptuous?
It offers its head invitingly, as if realizing that Elphaba’s hovering palm is itching to touch its head.
Elphaba gives in, her hand gently smoothing over the dog’s head.
“You’re welcome,” she says, the corner of her thick, rosy green lips twisting to a smile. Its fur is thin, but incredibly soft—unlike Doctor Dillamond’s coarse hide and Dulcibear’s fur. Dulcibear tends her fur regularly, but it can’t be compared to the softness of this dog she just met today.
“You know, you’re awfully familiar.”
The dog stiffens, but otherwise doesn’t respond.
“Or maybe you just remind me of someone,” Elphaba hurriedly says, sensing the animal’s slight tenseness. “An incredibly fascinating someone, mind you. But I can’t say that I am close, or even in a friendly term with h—them.”
The dog makes an expression that it is maybe raising its eyebrow. It’s quite adorable, Elphaba can’t help but think. This sassy expression much more suited her (after a quick glance below) than the pleading, hesitating look.
Elphaba couldn’t help but smile. She reaches her hand again, rubbing the dog’s head affectionately, secretly loving how she welcomes it gladly.
“It’s getting late,” she says, pulling her hand back to her lap to look around. “I’m going to—” she pauses, flinching when the dog has somehow disappeared. There isn’t any golden blur anywhere, not even rustles of leaves.
Blinking in confusion, Elphaba raises to her full height again, hands nervously clutching the sling of her satchel. She looks around, swallowing when she realizes that it is getting much later than she anticipated.
“That couldn’t be a ghost, could it?”
“Where were you?”
Elphaba flinches at the sudden sharp question, thrown at her unexpectedly the moment she enters their shared room. For the long few weeks they’ve been staying together, this is the first time Galinda has spoken to her since—well, the early days of school. Since then, Galinda had been ignoring her, and at one point too, the open jeerings had stopped. It’s more comfortable that way, away from attention, she means. Being left alone is much preferable than being the infamous grump that attracts glares and mockeries even when she’s not doing anything.
“Somewhere,” Elphaba opts to say, fixing her satchel on her side. She doesn’t know why she’s feeling nervous, but that might be because Galinda is looking… strangely nervous and alarmed?
“And where is that?”
“Why does that concern you?”
Galinda reels back, seemingly not expecting that Elphaba would respond like that. She sees a glimpse of hurt behind her large, doe-eyed brown orbs—but maybe Elphaba is being presumptuous, as she usually does. Because Galinda’s eye twitches ever so slightly then, more annoyed than angry at the defiance in her roommate’s usual bravado.
“Because, dear Elphaba Thropp,” she drawls coldly, advancing closer, “it’s midnight. And while it is clear as a day that I detest you so, I can’t help but worry.” She reels back, her hand over her chest, tossing her hair a little. “Because I am nice, as everyone knows I am.”
Elphaba holds back a snort, replacing it with a sigh instead when her long-suffering look is unabashedly ignored by the blonde. “I was reading,” she answers, showing the cover of her thick textbook. “I lost track of time in the library—”
Galinda cuts her off by putting a finger up, striding closer suddenly that Elphaba’s back is suddenly pressed against the wall to avoid her. “Good girls don’t lie, Miss Elphaba Thropp.”
Elphaba’s heart leaps suddenly. Doesn’t know why.
“The bookplace closed early today, before six. I know , because I invited the… keeper to hang out before dark,” she rambles on, eyes narrowing before her voice drops a tone. “So, where were you?”
Elphaba shifts on her feet. It feels strange to have Galinda so serious, lacking the usual flamboyance and preening and everything else that makes Galinda… well, Galinda . But it feels… like she’s seeing a real Galinda this way. Not the perfectly curated image of an Upland who’s impish and unapologetically yet innocently flirty with her hair tosses—
But simply a ridiculously frustrated woman. Who’s had enough, as it seems.
Elphaba proudly thinks she’s the only one who manages to make her crack her facade like this.
She opens her mouth, and watches as Galinda’s eyes narrow in expectation. “I never knew you’re such a worrywart,” she says instead, knowing well she infuriates Galinda by dodging her question again.
“Elphaba Thropp!”
She holds back a grin. Oh, Galinda is seething, alright.
“Galinda Upland,” Elphaba drawls mockingly, slipping free to walk over to the side of her room. Her eyes are still on Galinda as she walks back, just to make sure to ingrain that furious look in her brain. “Where I go, and where I spend my free time, is none of your concern.”
Galinda glares harder, but doesn’t say anything else then. Instead, she turns on her heels and stomps over to the pink-filled side of their dorm.
She doesn’t speak to her again for the whole night. But then again, she never does.
“Doctor Dillamond, how about another staff? Not teaching staff, but… well, other employees?”
Doctor Dillamond stops, pausesing on his activity on fixing the stack of essays his students just collected. “What staff, Miss Elphaba?” He asks, sniffing slightly. “A continuation from yesterday's conversation—Animal staff?”
“Yes.” Elphaba tightens her hold around her satchel, hiding a sheepish look by dipping her head down. “Or maybe….the ones that can’t speak? Around Shiz?”
Doctor Dillamond ponders for a moment, frowning as much as a Goat can do. “Young Animals, then? Or simply animals? I’m afraid there aren’t any that I am aware of. Perhaps Professor Cobalt’s cubs?”
“No, she’s not a Leopard,” Elphaba quickly answers, shaking her head. She briefly remembers the grouchy Leopard professor who only taught briefly at the start of the semester. “She’s a… dog, Doctor Dillamond.”
“A dog…?” Doctor Dillamond frowns deeper. “Frankly, I am not acquainted with others that aren't among the teaching staff. Where did you meet this dog you are telling me, Miss Elphaba?”
“I was reading on the woods—the clearings, actually, near the Animal professors’ gathering place. Maybe they have a keeper of some sort there…?” She offers, hoping for an answer.
“No, I’m afraid not, Miss Elphaba. The clearings don’t have a specific keeper. We just let it be. Perhaps whom you saw is a student’s familiar, roaming the grounds?” Doctor Dillamond explains, sounding just as confused as Elphaba is. “I don’t think the teachers keep their non-speaking familiars here, to be honest. Perhaps out of respect to us, teaching Animals.”
Elphaba nods slowly. “But it is possible to have non-speaking animals to be able to understand human speech, though, Doctor Dillamond? The dog I met—I’m not sure what exactly is she, since she couldn’t speak yet—”
“---able to display humane quality?” Doctor Dillamond guesses, tilting his head down so he is looking at Elphaba through above his glasses. Elphaba hastily closes her mouth. “Both Animals and non-speaking animals can understand human speech, Miss Elphaba. Perhaps non-speaking animals aren’t as proficient as Animals, but they can understand you well, in their own way,” he explains, noting the shameful look on his mentee. “Now, don’t look like that, Miss Elphaba.”
“Well…” Elphaba closes her mouth, and opens it again only to close it again, speechless. She takes a seat at Doctor Dillamond’s urging. Only then she can let the words flow. “She’s different than animals I encountered before, Doctor Dillamond. I’ve… I’ve been in the wilderness before, meeting animals that don’t speak. That’s why I am confused. The dog I met—she understood me perfectly, and respond just like humans would! But she can’t—or won’t speak. That’s why I’m confused. I haven’t found anything about this being covered in books.”
“Well, textbooks often only show the black-and-white side of things, not the grey areas,” Doctor Dillamond lets out a rumble of amused chuckling. If Doctor Dillamond had hands, he would probably reach for Elphaba’s shoulder, squeezing encouragingly. “Talk to Professor Kaliko. Perhaps he can lend you his books about this. Give you an enlightenment. Or something that can help develop your talent even greater, Miss Elphaba. Good work on the essay, by the way.”