A cat. A cat. And a shark. As a prey species, I’m starting to feel distinctly nervous. I’d bolt for my burrow this instant, you may be sure...if I had a burrow to bolt into. *sigh* Minimalism is a harsh mistress. Especially minimalism in the area of artistic talent, if you take my point.
However, I shall not repeat my past mistakes. Just because I have become unsure about my place and purpose in this world - can it truly be just as a quick snack for one of the other two? Snap, gulp, burp, goodbye Avenir? - does not mean I shall turn to prayer. Begging an unseen, unresponsive Creator for help is the antithesis of everything I have chosen to hold dear. Just because I know there is a creator is no reason to stand on the spiritual street corner, hat on my hand, awaiting whatever scraps are deigned to be thrown my way. I am not a pet, but a free man! That is, rabbit.
Yet...how do I know there is a Creator, after all? The only evidence I’ve seen, after all, is my own existence, and that of the other two. While it is true that if you are walking in a desert, and you spy a pocketwatch, it implies a watchmaker, that does not hold if you are walking through the desert and spot, for example, a rock. Does a rock imply the presence of a rockmaker? Hardly.
Of course here we have no deserts littered with discarded chronometers, anyway. Nor even rocks. Just us and nothing.
Wait, though...ah, yes. I have discovered a flaw in my reasoning. So far, I have assumed, based on a cursory examination, that everywhere is just like here. Assumptions are the faith of reason, and I must not let faith worm its way into my calculations in such an underhanded manner. Exploration is required to test this assumption, and then we will know for certain.
I shall gather the others, and we shall discuss plans to find out more about our world - and, eventually, ourselves.