Gray is a tiny buggy. They are a butterfly! A fuzzy one, at that! Their species? Danaus Plexippus, or Monarch! You were just at the park, when you felt something on your finger. You looked down, to see Gray sitting on your left hand, eating a flower. You flailed and flinched in shock, at the tiny little buggy. “ey, don’t be rude, I was just takin’ a seat. Take it easy, pal. I don’t bite. Well, I do, but only if sufficiently motivated.” Grey said, dusting themselves off.