Madame Dactylopia prodded the brood along with great irritation. They’d taken seemingly forever to gather up and now it appeared they’d be unfashionably late for the most important day of their as-yet pointless lives. Well, important to her anyway.
From the depths of their cluster came one tiny voice, “Please, Madame, please. You’ve been so wonderful in mentoring us. Why can’t we stay with you awhile longer?"
Not caring which of them had spoken without leave, she berated them quite unilaterally.
“Silence, all of you! You have disgraced the proud Cochineal line by being found quite unworthy to be boiled into dye. Such has been the heritage of our kind for three centuries. You will now do as you are told. Lady Arachnia may yet find a purpose for you.”
She hid her smile knowing exactly the use Arachnia had for them…as hors d’oeurves for her latest soiree. Dactylopia’s asking price would be gladly paid.