Somewhere from the depths of the waystone a horrid sound could be heard, the screech of metal grinding against metal as a certain golden lanky automaton grabs a desk and flips it over, gears, cogs, and bits of metal scatter to the floor, a unfinished gift never to be delivered to its home, whimsy crumples to the ground in a fit of delirium, cursing to herself as she picks up the mess, she begins to mutter to herself. "Why him out of everyone, why was it him? it's just hair that could have grown back, didn't he know that?" she looks over at the table and hums as she moves to pick it up. "I can't let this happen again.. first that elgi now it's the oreni.. i have to do something" with that she shoves the now forever unfinished project into a drawer and shuffles off to find her creator.