"I have never claimed to have any talents, but if I did, what good would they be to humanity? I am but a fragile being, incapable of any abilities which transcend the understanding of the concept of reality. Who and what are these faces? Why are they so... odd, yet captivating. Does the presence of time fade when we can no longer breathe? What a strange world our ancient ancestors must have beheld. And how their predecessors have been able to build something greatly alien to their origin. What will a hunter clothed in the fur of his predators think of the modern day human experience? Will he marvel in it or have an existential crisis and approach a rather sudden intentional organic end."