“Do you know what you are, Sheep?” asked Red.
“Not really,” sighed Sheep. “I’ve been here for 15 years and never seen anything to suggest what I am.”
“Hydras got me thinking we are thoughtforms. Things summoned by what living creatures are thinking about,” said Red.
“Interesting,” said Sheep. “Hey, I could be a cloud! Or a balloon animal of a sheep! Or a ball of wool!”
“I guess some of us will never figure out what we are,” sighed Red.
“Oh, look! A little blue bird!” cried Sheep, before following the blue bird into the sunset.
Red rubbed his chin. “Right…”