From "A Clear and Feathered Danger" by Noah Murphy

After a day spent covering death, destruction and politics, chilling with a group of drunk, dancing avians was a nice change of pace.

Leyla sat on Abernathy’s entertainment room sofa watching an avian tap his foot while clicking his beak to the beat of the blaring dance music. Another was twisting her head and torso, a third was just bouncing her head and up down. A fourth was just flapping her wings in place. Off in a corner, a bonded pair was doing something best described as the avian version of making out, holding each other’s beaks and vibrating rapidly. Leyla’s camera pod was on the floor capturing the whole scene.

Behind them at the bar, an avian was squawking angrily because they had completely cleaned out the liquor cabinet. But before the fun had a chance to stop, an avian flew up with a box of beer. Four avians tore the box open and grabbed the beer. Holding the bottles, they twisted off the caps with their beaks and flung the caps with their tongues. They turned their beaks skywards and let gravity do the work.