It was feeding time.
The Xenomorph drone was nearly full grown now. It scaled the side of a building, looking down at the busy night below. It saw a group of the humans running. They ran into a darkened alley to avoid some other humans who were in pursuit.
The Xenomorph crawled along the wall with ease, jumping to the roof of the squatter building opposite. His brothers landed on the roof beside him. They began scaling down this building head-first. This wall was made of some kind of stones, it was much easier to find clawholds, much easier to move with quick stealth.
The two pursuing humans had the group of five cornered. One of the two was yelling, waiving something shiny at them.
The Xenomorphs stopped, communicating amongst themselves in the way of speaking without voices. Their powerful muscles tensed, and they leapt as one.
It happened quickly. The Xenomorph felt the warm, supple flesh of its prey in its grasp. Then it sensed the disturbance of waves even as it felt the bite.
It screeched.
The shiny thing in the prey's hands had bitten him - his blood spraying out. Some of his blood landed on the prey. The prey screamed, struggling briefly. Then the prey went limp.
The Xenomorph bit into the prey's face, tearing away flesh and meat with his sharp teeth. It was his first taste of the kill, his first taste of meat. He looked at the little hole in his arm. The bleeding slowed. It would heal.
He took the shiny thing in his claws, looking at it. The shiny thing that bit him. He would remember. He would learn. He would not make the same mistake again. He discarded the shiny thing, which still bubbled where some of his blood had spatted it.
The Xenomorphs collected their kill, climbing back up into the night.