As the eradication patrol passed, creatures emerged from the shadows, balancing on spindly limbs as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
They approached the embassy timidly, tiny eyes peering up into the perimeter viewer.
The ambassador was nearby.
“Let the humans in. It was their planet.”
Hatched in the spire of Saint Eugene’s cathedral in Derry, or close enough for reality not to be offended, he swoops down with the odd Science Fiction manuscript which is duly transcribed from bird-scratching by his alter ego under threat of a severe head-clawing. Refusing to be identified, his partner in crime will only admit that Falcon, a Peregrine, can be seen vole-hunting in the local cemetery to feed his family. This is presumed to be a source of inspiration, but who can tell with raptors.