Rosalie was sleeping and then, very suddenly, she wasn't. She had fallen on gravel (which hurt) someplace very strange. Pressing a hand to her mouth, she stood up slowly, gaze sweeping the room and taking in the glass curvature of the walls first, then the castle, which made the setting recognizable. She was in a fishbowl. The possibility of a dream was discounted, since she didn't seem to have them, but she really hadn't thought she had drunken quite this much.
She turned and took a step towards the plaque, dragging her hand against the smoothness of the wall, only then noticing the others. "Hello?"