Nature had permitted the forest a clearing on the outer stretch of its expansion within the rested hills of California. All was still in the bound arena except for the unbound birds that flew free and unworried above it all, witnessing whatever scurried below them.
A mob of the stupid creatures, turkeys, crept into this place, emanating their meaningless gurgling. They had no direction for their travels, but they had been wandering nowhere all that morning, thus they collectively came to rest--together in tightly-knit huddled sanctuary--while some of them fractured away and into the surrounding shrub to search for a direction offered by nature.
Above, the clouds were permitted to cluster and churn themselves into a menacing stir. The accumulating grey boulders of the sky thus began to rage, but they suppressed their anger, releasing a mere moderate drizzle upon whatever life existed below. The turkeys frantically scrambled to find protection over their little heads from the water that fell upon them. The trees--the covering they sought for--were on the outer rim of the clearing, but the dazed nomads had settled long enough to forget their origins of that morning.
Suddenly, the clouds above clashed and released a tremendous roar that pierced the insignificant ears of the birds, disturbing them from their settlement, tearing their precious bliss from their senses; and thus, nature ensued chaos within this moment in time, upon this place in the galaxy.
The turkeys, in their fear, collided violently with each other and broke each other; and, in their withdrawal from the remnant of their fellowship, they struck upon each other with their beaks--all for nothing’s sake. Feathers were thrown into the savage atmosphere, transported through the air by the cries and yelps, just before they settled onto the red-soaken grass. They might as well have had no heads upon their shoulders. Before--before, they were mindless. . .
The moment amidst the hills, amidst the time, amidst the universe--soothed and unfurled. Their holds on each other cautiously released, and they separated, retreating to themselves, twitching as they departed, as if in a trance. The hurd ceased to exist.
As they separated into loneliness--confused why they were departing--allay in the center of the scene one of the young females on her side, smothered to death. Her feathers that were viciously torn from her body surrounded her in a crescent shape, and her eyes were closed, making her the most peaceful thing on those hills.

In the distance, one of the turkeys of the sort who decided not to settle in the clearing, blissfully continued on in its directionless quest, remaining absolutely immersed in nothingness. It stalked the brush unknowlingly in the presence of a tall, otherworldly being who hid itself partially behind a nearby tree: a maritan. This nobler of the two creatures--breathing long and deep, contemplative breathes through its astronomically-chiseled face--stood in front of a large, chrome-like ship-craft vessel of space: its vehicle. It looked ahead into the clearing where the chaos was moments before, watching the stupid things extract themselves. It pondered such sights. The turkey near it halted and fixed its disoriented gaze at the other presence, finally acknowledging it, and the alien looked back at its companion in nature. The alien turned, the vessel behind it opened with foreign functionality, and it boarded with a face of disappointment.