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Rhian wilted even more. She didn't even know what she'd done wrong, not really, but she could tell she was in trouble; that she'd messed up again. She really was defective, wasn't she? The little proto mumbled out a quiet, "I'm sorry. . . didn't mean to make a mess. . . Just wanted to smell nice. . ." before going limp in Ellandra's arms, partly in shame, partly to pretend to be a doll so her owner-mother could clean her up.

There were very few things that could truly depress Rhian - surprisingly, being denied her fluffy treat wasn't one of them - and the most extreme one was knowing she'd done something that contrasted her purpose. Mentors didn't make mistakes, they helped fix them. And yet she made mistakes all the time - more often than she even wanted to think about.

Ellandra, holding Rhian in one arm so as to keep as much of the oil off of her clothing as possible, reached over and touched Faolan's arm. "I can pay for fixing the flooring," she said quietly, knowing that Faolan would probably rather not use the money she had stored away - she had never told him how much, anyway - but thinking that, if it was needed, now might be the time to mention it. "That way it won't cut into any of the remodeling funds. . ."

"All right, Faolan. . ." Ellandra said, sighing a little before hurrying out of the vardo with the silent, limp, and oil-soaked form of Rhian in her arms. The butterfly stayed silnt throughout her scrubbing, even though there was no-one about during her impromptu was. And afterwards, well, she couldn't have moved if she'd wanted to, with wet wings and being bundled up in a towel three times her size - a situation that normally would have caused her to fuss up a storm, she hated being all wrapped up.

However, she remained eerily silent, and it was beginning to worry Ellandra as she carried the towel-drying bundle back to the vardo - it was far too difficult to get her dry through scrubbing, she'd just have to sit for a bit, that seemed to work best. It had taken a long time to scrub the flutterby, what with it being oil that was being washed off, and even now the scent lingered slightly on the proto's form.

"Now, Faolan, be nice," Ellandra admonished gently as she sat the bundled butterfly on the couch to dry - the still noticeably, oddly silent butterfly, that was really beginning to worry Ellandra; she'd expected Rhian to at least respond to Faolan's teasing!

"Flutterby?" She asked quietly, reaching over and touching Rhian's head. The Proto flicked her antennae in response, but didn't say anything, still. Ellandra looked over to Faolan and Ziazan, hoping one of them might have some idea of why Rhian was being so silent.

"Oh, you two," Ellandra laughed at the silly antics of her husband and Ziazan - really, did they not notice they were rolling around in what was left of the oil? - but turned her gaze on Rhian again when the butterfly still remained silent. All right, that was it. Down on the couch she sat, pulling the towel-cocooned proto into her arms again. "Talk to me, flutterby? Please?" She didn't want to upset the roughhouse session, but if this kept up much longer she might have to try and get Ziazan to read its sibling, to make sure nothing was wrong with her.

Ellandra shook her head, rocking Rhian a bit. "I don't know. . . she hasn't said a word since I took her off to wash, and she usually fusses about that, too," she said, the worry in her voice obvious - another thing that would normally make Rhian fuss, but wasn't. What was going on? "Flutterby? Rhian, please, what's wrong?"

Rhian stayed silent. She was in the middle of a minor personal crisis. Was she really defective? She certainly didn't seem to be helping as much as her purpose pushed her to, and in fact she seemed to make a lot more trouble than she relieved. Maybe growing up would help? If so, she hoped it came soon. If not, well, then the butterfly didn't have any ideas. But reaching alter would surely help her get better, wouldn't it? Surely?

Rhian flicked her antennae a little and nodded, finally speaking, thought just a little. "I know." Then she resumed her silence, while Ellandra stroked her head and shot Faolan a worried glance.

Rhian didn't answer right away. It took a soft, "Flutterby?" from Ellandra to get the proto to finally open her mouth, and when she did, she still didn't hav much to say.

"I think I'm defective. I mess up more than I help; it goes against my purpose... I hope growing will fix me." The butterfly seemed to wilt, even in the middle of her towel cocoon, as she admitted her faults - even as Ellandra hastened to hush her and try to reassure her that no, she wasn't defective, and that she did help, so very, very much.

Rhian shook her head, a little more vibrancy in her voice this time as she replied, "But I'm not supposed to mess up - it goes against my purpose." Surely her sibling understood that? Neithef the two humans could, she knew that much.