"Oh! Oh no!" Giselle yelps, dodging out of the way of a speeding...cart...thingie...and flattening herself — and her poofy wedding dress — against the nearest wall. The fall down the well had been terrifying, but this? This strange place where people are loud and carts moved with no horses to carry them and nobody even seems to care that she's been calling for help. And rain. It never rains in Andalasia unless something terrible is happening. Though, she supposes that it makes sense that it's raining in this scary new world, because this is something terrible.
There are people everywhere and huge buildings with little tiny buildings whose doors have names on them lined up across the way from them. "Hello? I'm lost. Someone? Anyone? Please, I just — ooh!" she interrupts herself with a surprised little sound that escapes in the wake of a "Watch it, lady!" as a couple of men carrying what looks like the wall of a home, paintings and all, past her, nearly knocking her over.
"Oh, won't someone please help me? I don't know where I am..." she whimpers, pouting.