Denzel bent down and reached for the next box. He was positive everything could be done before the clock reached the number 11. It wasn’t something worth stressing over, of course; but competing with himself was one of the many small things that brought Denzel joy.

The pink human was watching him. It was right after the break for their feeding time, and they were a bit sleepy and slow. Humans enjoyed gathering together and eating large quantities of protein, that was something Denzel had noticed long ago.

“Anything useful so far?” the pink human suddenly asked. The butterfly was taken by surprise and had to adjust his glasses in order to see the human clearly. He tried to sniff out what kind of emotion their question contained, but the moment for that was long gone. Still, a simple headshake felt like too little for the occasion.

“No,” he verbalized his response, trying to appear neutral.

The human nodded and walked over to his desk, their fingers only a few heartbeats away from pressing the button on the device Denzel hated so much. His heart started beating faster. Small talk was never a good sign: it usually meant someone needed something.

“Do you want a cracker?” the pink human asked.

“I don’t have a mouth to chew with,” Denzel replied, and that seemed to put an end to the conversation for a while. But the human was still standing there next to him. Perhaps they felt bored. The butterfly could smell that the pink human felt somewhat awkward, but was sure this feeling, too, would pass. He tried to focus on the paintings in the box. He felt adventurous today, like setting a new personal record.

Denzel glanced over a few of them: nothing of interest there. The corners were somewhat oily, possibly from human fingers. He wondered who had touched them before him. Would they have known what to look for? Probably not, he concluded. Humans were remarkably bad at knowing the unknown.

“I stole two boxes of crackers,” the pink human suddenly said. There was a pinch of mischief in their voice, and the feeling of it pulsed through Denzel’s brain. Negative emotions are so overwhelming, he thought to himself as he turned his head towards the human. Of course, Denzel could see their body with the corner of his eyes no matter where the human stood. But most humans preferred to remain oblivious to the fact that their actions were always visible to someone with 12,000 eye lenses.

The pink human was now in the centre of Denzel’s eyes. He focused all of his lenses on the human to signal interest. It was the least he could do in such an unusual situation. Denzel couldn’t remember the last time a human confessed something like this to him. He was sure it had never happened before, and, in any case, not to this extend. The pink human wanted something and was willing to share incriminating information to get it. Denzel was intrigued by this game, but nothing more. He did not care about the crimes of the pink human.

“Is the value of crackers especially high?” Denzel asked.

The pink human smiled and blew out an unreasonable amount of air through their nostrils.

“I was hoping you could tell me that,” they replied.

Denzel’s wing twitched and the pink human pulled out their device in the blink of an eye.

“You can’t be serious. This is against the rules,” Denzel flapped.

“I am. What do you think I can get for two boxes of crackers?” the pink human insisted and lowered their gun. They had realized animals sometimes moved parts of their bodies without the need to attack.

“Crackers are dry bread. That’s almost worthless. I assume something fresh would have a much higher value,” Denzel replied after a long pause.

The pink human nodded and thought for a second. Denzel observed their thought process carefully. He had mixed feelings about it: while it was fun to watch, the outcomes were seldom predictable. And Denzel did not like the randomness of humans in general.

The pink human was no exception to the chaos of a thought process.

“How about watermelon? I can try to steal two pieces of watermelon. It might take a few days though.”

Denzel thought for a second, then nodded with fake enthusiasm in his movements.

“You can steal two pieces of watermelon.” He repeated the pink human’s words in order to bring some order into whatever this situation was.

The human nodded back and almost thanked him, but the words got stuck in their throat. Denzel was used to that. An unvoiced “thank you” was the best he ever got from anyone.

Denzel noticed that the pink human’s fingers loosened their grip on the belt they wore. The human was busy thinking, scheming even. They were going to get their hands on the watermelon. There was no doubt about it.

“Would you like a piece of watermelon as well?” the pink human suddenly asked.

“I don’t have a mouth to chew with,” Denzel replied and returned to the box on his desk.