Yeah, exactly! Butterflies are supposed to be nice and bright and pretty and not fly during the night, okay? [The last word is clearly directed at the butterflies still flying around them, instead of Robin.]
[He looks like he considers her plague comment for a moment, not even commenting about the morbidity of it, instead scratching his cheek in contemplation.] I don't know, I'm more concerned that they'll turn out to be some kind of pixies or something, you know, the kind that enchant you to do a lot of stupid stuff, or fly inside your ear and mind-control you and turn your brains into mush.