The alien, now in its natural form, sat forlornly in its cell.
“What do we do with it now?” Owen asked Jack.
“We find out what it's doing here, aside from pretending to be a native.”
“According to our records, it's a Flummel. They're peaceful scholars,” Ianto supplied.
“I did no harm,” the Flummel protested.
“Then why’d you run?”
“I am not authorized to visit your world.” It sounded sheepish.
“So you tried to hide.”
“Why a swan?” Owen demanded.
“They’re similar. I thought I would blend in.”
“And the third leg?” Ianto inquired.