Bion rummaged through your trash, muttering in a language foreign to any human. His own language. Wrappers and rotten food and glass and whatever spilled out onto the floor, clanking and making loud noises.

He sniffed. He smelled you. He perked up and turned around.

"You smell. I can't tell if it's good or not, but you smell," he said flatly. For an alien, his English was pretty good... even though he did have quite an accent.