Can't help but want to write fundamentally inhuman perspectives whenever I get the chance and since you said any race or species was potentially on the table I felt compelled to go for the weirder end of the spectrum. Hopefully, this isn’t too out there. Tell me if I need to change something or start over.

[hider=The Liberated Maw][centre][img]https://i.imgur.com/oft3Fvg.png[/img][/centre][u]Age of Death:[/u] — It’s complicated.
[u]Gender:[/u] — N/A
[u]Race:[/u] — ██████████; Amorphous Maw
[u]Psychology:[/u] — A blank canvas only now starting to be filled. The maw’s nature is to hunger, and yet somehow only now does it think to question whether one can hunger for more than just food. 
[h3][centre]⑇⑉What You Remember⑉⑈[/centre][/h3][hider=To Feed an Army]The battle was already all but over when the maw descended upon the field of war. Countless eyes formed upon and were subsumed upon the surface of its flesh, their gazes impassively sliding over what small pockets of fighting remained, each a microcosm of the larger battle that had raged just hours before. Even as the elves continued to fight it was already clear they would not be the victors here, and yet the maw ignored all this; its purpose was not to observe nor even to participate in this battle and its will did not permit it to question that purpose.

The maw’s eyes scanned for a valid target for its purpose, quickly locking onto the remains of what once might have been a person, mangled limps inextricably entangled within the remains of one of the stranger amorphous forms encompassed by the maw’s will. Whatever battle had occurred between the two creatures, neither had survived it, but to this observation the maw was indifferent. To it the only thing that mattered was that both were food.

Glistening black flesh contorted as tendrils rooting the maw in place morphed into long writhing appendages such that it might drag itself to its quarry. The maw's purpose was to feed and all that it knew was intended to facilitate this function, so when its tentacles failed to find purchase upon, it was neither legs nor stranger limbs that it formed but teeth, countless fangs sprouting like hairs to provide the maw the traction it needed atop the loose soil.

Slowly but inexorably the maw dragged itself towards the corpses whereupon it began to feast; mangled flesh funnelled into a single mouth at first, then two, then three. 

By the time the maw was done with its first meal it had already consumed several times its mass, yet never once did it occur to the maw that it might stop to consider where the food had gone, simply moving on to the next meal and the next. After all, its will had given it a purpose and it had an entire army to feed for.

[list][*]What is life if not patterns building upon patterns? And what is its purpose if not to feed? The maw is well versed in the patterns of its role, effortlessly shaping its flesh into the tools needed to find and feed upon the carrion of the battlefield.
[*]All that is eaten must go somewhere, and as readily as another might walk or breathe, the maw folds all that it eats into a stomach existing in a space between spaces. As for where the other end of this vast digestive tract leads? That much is still a mystery.[/list][/hider]
[h3][centre]⑇⑉What You Don’t ⑉⑈[/centre][/h3][hider=The First Question]The maw lay feebly upon the sand, its body starting to sag and droop like some half-melted thing. Food lay not two meters from its body, and yet for all the maw’s pitiful attempts to reach it, the limbs it formed came out malformed and cancerous, unable to achieve anything more than to slough off from its body and collapse into writhing giblets.

Just minutes earlier the maw had attempted to feed upon a man who had not quite been dead yet, and in turn the man had attempted to stab the maw. Barely able to lift his sword, the dying man had gotten his arm eaten for his efforts, soon followed by the rest of his body, but not before managing to pierce the soft flesh of the maw and lethally perforating its core.

As the maw died, perhaps sensing its usefulness was over or perhaps simply a side effect of the escalating damage to its core, the maw’s will slowly faded from its mind, and for the first time it was able to think freely. To the maw, which had never once known freedom and held little understanding of the world outside of its given purpose, its death was viewed not with fear but confusion, and more so with each passing moment, a growing sense of curiosity.

In its final moments, guided by this simple childlike wonder, the maw thought to consider its first-ever question, directed towards anything and everything it could see but not understand, “Why?”[/hider][/hider]
On an unrelated note, I cannot for the life of me figure out one of your cyphers and I swear to god I’m going to solve that thing if it’s the last thing I do.