Rose stopped short, skidding slightly along the crumbly, dusty mountain path on which she had been jogging, happily listening to her music, enjoying the warmth of the day on her back. She blinked a few times, tried to catch her breath, and then walked back a few feet to where she had thought she had seen the strange sight, the one that had stopped her morning run rather abruptly.

And there it still was. Two enormous pink butterflies playing together in the sunshine, flitting back and forth, their wings glinting, both beautiful.

Rose watched for some time, unable to believe what she was seeing. How could such things exist? Surely she would have heard of them - they were massive, far bigger than any other butterfly she had ever seen, and bright pink to boot.

A thought came to her then. Perhaps she had just discovered a new species - she could name it - the Rose Butterfly would fit perfectly - and she would become famous. She just needed to catch one. Both preferably. Her heart beat double, triple, time at the thought. At last, she would be someone.

Leaning forward, Rose unhooked her water bottle and leapt towards the beautiful creatures. She missed, knocking one to the ground, the other flying away. Rose stamped her foot, crushing the beautiful insect.