On August 8, 2001, 90 miles over the Western Hemisphere, there was a flash of light as a capitol spacecraft exploded into existence. The ship was stationary for a moment, and then began to turn on its center and angle itself toward the planet. What could only be described as a pod, was ejected from somewhere on the side of the ship. The pod increased velocity toward the planet and soon entered the atmosphere. One would have expected anything that size to burn up during the fall to the ground, but it was shielded so that the heat was anything but harmful. Endothermic generators were remotely activated by the crew of the ship, and the red glow that had been growing on the pod faded. Powered by its own falling, the computer systems of the pod kicked on and reported "all-clear with minor course corrections needed" to the main ships crew. Its mission accomplished, the ship then prepared to return to the time and place it belonged.
The pod now had enough power absorbed to make the necessary corrections to its path. The computer began reading coordinates from a relic GPS device. The pod's shield split in the back to create a number of air-foils. The computer moved the air-foils slightly to align with its target. In a few moments the pod landed, unerringly, on the continent known at the time as North America. Having seen this, the crew of the capitol ship caused their vessel to shimmer and flash and move time itself.
The pod was now cooling in the middle of a crater in a forest. The heat shield, having served its purpose, had cracked and fallen of like the husk of a seed. What remained was only a pod in some respects. A more accurate description would have been "tube". It was colored a dark green and had a view port for its occupants. The computer's external screen read "Thawing..."
I had been watching my field for a half an hour. I was scanning it for movement. For prey.
I was concentrating on a vole about twelve feet from my perch. I needed to find the right moment to strike. I needed to kill. I needed to eat.
My meadow was suffering a draught. The grass was brown and the prey was scarce. Such things really took there toll on predators like myself. I was about to swoop down when it happened.
He came from the trees on the east side of the meadow. A man unlike I had ever seen before. He was dressed in clothes that looked like a fad in Japan; a jacket that looked like a jean jacket, but was made of some kind of strange material; a pair of seamless pants made from the same material; and a shirt that seemed to change colors and patterns. He did not look at all Japanese. He really didn't look like any nationality I had seen before. His complexion was regular for a Caucasian, but his shape was odd, as though bits of him hade been stretched or elongated. He was pursuing a jack-rabbit that bounded through the meadow and scared all of my prey off. But, rather than being left behind, the man was catching up without breaking a sweat. He jumped for the rabbit with savage speed and landed with one hand on the rabbit and one hand holding him up off the ground as though he did not want the rabbit enough to get dirty for it. But he had the rabbit, and it struggled in his hand until his struggling was ended by an audible snap of its neck. The chase had ended ten feet from my tree. The man looked at the rabbit in his hand and then he turned and looked straight at me.
I was frightened, thinking that he might decide to pounce on me. He instead threw his catch toward the base of my tree. Then he spoke.
"I hope that enjoy you meal, comrade. I was hungry, too."
He then departed, running very quickly. It occurred to me to fly after him, but as I looked at the fresh kill before me I grew hungrier than I already was.
When I had finished my much needed meal he was out of sight. I decided to tell the others promptly about the strange occurrence.