Unlike most small birds, Natu rarely flock. But when they do, they swarm entire routes. It is thought this is because when only a few congregate, it’s too easy for all of them to become locked into staring contests with each other.

Xatu’s constant staring and inaction makes it an irresistible target for humans to project meaning onto. Is it seized by existential dread, calm with foreknowledge, serene with its fate, biding its time, saving its energy, or distracted by its visions? Maybe it’s just lazy.