It's only natural that they would if it's related to the flowers here, which the pollen implies.

[it's truly upsetting, heartbreaking even. his hand turns upright as a butterfly drifts down to their area, letting it alight on the tip of a chitinous claw. the little thing isn't there long before it flutters away again, but at least the pollen there doesn't seem to be affecting him quite as much.

that... doesn't really matter, as the itch of it starts to seep into his skin, deeper than bone—but it's fine. he'll figure it out at some point.]

Ah—yes. I came to understand them when I was younger, after my... father gifted me a butterfly as a friend. They're such sweet creatures, insects.

[these ones certainly speak differently, but they're nonetheless comprehensible.]