1: The birds stand in front of the doors. The miners keep their distance, but the foreman is close to the doors, hands on the stone. The miner has set the suitcase down on the ground behind them.

Grosbeak: Reckon they’re doors, obviously, but they got us all-overish an’ we hain’t mustered the courage to open ’em.

2: The foreman’s talons examine the handles of the door. The door has dull, discolored metal handles.

3: The foreman turns around to partially face the two miners.

Foreman: Have you told anyone else?

Grosbeak: No, sir. Were only us what saw ’em, an’ we came t’ get ya right quick.

Foreman: Bring over my suitcase.

4: The miner grabs at the suit case, lugging it forward.

5: The foreman’s hand reaches into his coat. He pulls what looks almost like a gun: a strange, alien gun, a mixture of metal panels, a chitinous shell and organic, veined structures.

6: The miners carries the case. His hat is low, leaving him blind to the foreman’s gun, aimed directly at his head.