One is able to sift through the chaos, identifying patterns within the teeming sea of complexity that is the world around them. This kind of person is able to make sense of fragments, to string together seemingly disparate pieces of evidence into a compelling, comprehensible narrative. Such a person, when confronted with a tomb slab from a robbed burial in rural Mongolia, gazes into the strange and faded lines until an image emerges: the snarling face of a dragon, perhaps a guardian deity, mostly worn away by the elements over the centuries:
The second kind of person sees the stag on the first go:
...I am the first kind of person.