*D-95a squats down near the edge of the dome; her bare synthetic feet on the astroturf grass, the little sundress she chose for herself today dangling.
She stares at a digital panel displaying a butterfly fluttering it's wings atop a weed.*
The pretty orange insect lifts off the plant. D-95a stands to match it's height and walks along the edge of the dome to follow and watch. But as the digital depiction of the butterfly goes higher, she can only attempt to reach out and grab it with her little pale hand. "Please stay a moment longer, miss monarch. Or, no. With that circular marking on your back, you are male." D-95a speaks, mostly to herself, looking back at the little library for a moment. Wishing she had the insect book therewithin.
She makes a fist against the screen in an attempt to bring back what was never really there. Trying to make it real. The butterfly flutters off and becomes smaller and smaller until it's only a pixel. Then disappearing.
D-95a brings her fist down in front of her face and opens it. "Ah." She murmurs flatly. Of course it's empty, but she still checks as she struggles with knowing what's 'real'.
