[hider=I'm a healer but...][right][img]https://i.ibb.co/dJrMpjz1/Shark-Girl-Small.png[/img][/right]
[h1]???[/h1][u]Age of Death:[/u] — 70
[u]Gender:[/u] — Female
[u]Race:[/u] — Alopiidon
[u]Psychology:[/u] — For someone unable to recognize their own name, the Alopiidon is a rather vain and prideful one. Though, perhaps her pride is born out of a misanthrophy--to see herself as greater than her peers. Of course, for someone who has such a brutish power, she has some innate level of excitement towards blood and viscera--both her own and other's. Beyond any of that is her desire to learn--as such, she's quite indifferent to the loss of her memories and is more infatuated with the concept of a new world.

[i]⑇⑉What You Remember⑉⑈[/i]

     [sup]Marshland Academia[/sup]
The cold night's air numbed her skin--though she dare not grasp herself in any attempt at warmth. She was no longer a pup. Her kith stood alongside her. Younglings of the same brood--though she would not admit such words. To do so would be to renounce her claim to adulthood. They watched as the elder dragged a human, one with various parts half-detached, across the water. Small bits of leaves covered his wounds, but could not stymie the flow of blood diffusing into the bogs. It was slow but meticulously fast--the elder dragged his body onto a stone altar in the bogs.

[i]Observe, pups,[/i] those words rang out, [i]of how to preserve life and, if that fails, to use its throes to learn.[/i]

⑴ To understand how to mend was ingrained in her kind. To weave flesh, marrow, and blood to reform the body--for what use was a styptic when one could naturally detoxify one's blood and put it back inside the body. Though, the prospects of one's flesh being forcibly contorted and woven is never one's first choice of healing.
 
⑵ Of course, one cannot understand how to mend without knowing how one's internals functioned. What would a doctor be without practical experience? Just as easily as one can mend flesh can one rend flesh. Slowly, carefully--always to preserve the structure of lymphatic systems for greater learning and understanding.

[i]⑇⑉What You [s]Don’t[/s] ⑉⑈[/i]

     [sup][Dying Wish/or Grudge][/sup]
Apostate. That was a new one. Though, it was probably wrong of them to say such words--she never believed in their metal gods. Such were the old ways of her kin--they had no gods or masters to worship. Though, any accusation was just pretense. Simply put, it was a purge to make way for a new era. Magi were no longer needed in a world of metal, pistons, and whale oil. No matter her ability, she couldn't take the weight of a nation-state bearing down on her. Though, she did try out of principle. Even her own death would serve for her learning--even if it was as simple as how many she could kill.

As their harpoons her impaled and no longer able to see the light of the moon, she had only a single thought.

[i]Oh, to continue my work. That would be just swell.[/i][/hider]