At the sound of monkeys screeching, Rose's unkempt mane of hair stood on end. Oh no. Her grip on Castiel's arm fell loose. Before she could speak, though, the sky around the group went dark.

The air was instantly aflutter with fur and feathers. Rose looked up. The noise was deafening. Winged primates swooped and dipped chaotically, the image of mayhem. If the apes belonged to an army, their organization tactics were indecipherable.

She was entranced. Just like a feline, Rose turned her head back and forth, watching one creature, then another, then another. Several moments of distraction passed before she could snap out of it. The girl- not lion- shook her head sharply, and covered her ears. Despite this, Rose could feel the familiar fear of the character creeping in.

The Wicked Witch of the West knew they were here.

"I think this is the par' where we run!!"