If the pen could have sighed, it would have. Another 'correction' and those never worked out. It was not a pencil, it was not made for undoing previous changes. The changes would always be there, but now were 'covered up.' It wasn't 'erased' like a pencil would be. The 'scars' on reality remained. Resulting in an unhealthy overwrite at best, or a painful overlapping of the two that was often the worst of both worlds.
Prometheus had used the pen sparingly, and had never had a time where he wanted to 'correct' any of his changes.
And the undead elite had kept it so it would never fall into mortal hands, the only hands that could control it. They had no idea of this one weakness of the pen either.
The pen could not speak, and it could not give any information unless that information was purposely asked for by the writer.
Instead of Ashlee growing and developing her personality and individuality, Danielle had 'corrected' it instead, and to make things WORSE Ashlee had then corrected her new form as a living latex being into a lizard woman, instead of adding in adjustments that would have made her new life without fear of being blown away by the wind. These corrections would backfire and seep into reality in a way that wouldn't be good.
The pen remembered (as close to remember as it could) a master it had once had, who like Danielle had made several changes in a day, but the next day, had decided to 'undo' them all to start again fresh. The end result had been Atlantis was now retroactively at the bottom of the sea.
Ashlee didn't notice, more to normal 'human' obliviousness than any form of magic, her scales take on a sheen, nor did she really notice how she was thinking how attractive Danielle was and couldn't wait for a second round tonight.