My rhythm is a mystery, many have tried to decipher, but my identity is known only by me and one other. The opposite of artificial, part of the whole. All hidden in plain sight, except for one.

You rush ahead, I steal mid-run, a sideways snack and then you’re done.

You walk into a room and see a bed. On the bed, there are two dogs, five cats, a giraffe, seven cows, and a goose. There are also three doves flying above the bed. How many legs are on the floor?

I was hailed as a God, though that is what I am not. I exist within a friend, but not for long, with my end, new ones are born. I give mass to those without. What am I?

I look like my twin, though we can never meet. When we finally touch, we vanish in a flash of light and heat. I'm the rarest thing on the planet, but I'm not found there, you'll find me in the places between spaces. What am I?