We all contain traces of our own ancestors.
I’m convinced that somewhere in here amongst my bones and organs and all the other stringy bits there lurks a smidgen of my great, great, great, grandfather. He spent his days on the hills looking for lost sheep, apparently. There must be a special bone for that somewhere. I’m sure I have one of them.
Exactly where it is I don’t know but it could be in my fingers as I can usually point in the right direction even when I have no idea where I’m going. This skill is built in, like The Force from Star Wars but woolier.