A darkened window hid the only one who had seen the gorup of survivors go in, and he liked what he had seen. Survivors, meals, food right there, and he began to salivate at the thought. The human's grey skin and black iris could be seen if anybody had seen him, but no one did. He could think as still a first stage, think well, if still focusing those thoughts on his stomach. He knew they were armed, but he was too, with the knowledge that a horde of hungry third stage were behind him. It'd only take the mention of food to set them off, and those survivors would be swarmed, and he could pick one off that way. Just a bit longer, and he'd get them going, just a bit longer.