Black horn-shaped upswept hair ยท purple eyeshadow ยท a deep-violet cloak with a sharply raised collar ยท a jeweled brooch on the chest ยท a staff twisted like a thorny branch with a purple crystal at its tip ยท a haughty sneer. As she levels up a shawl of crow feathers joins her shoulders and the purple orbs and magic rings multiply. At high levels she wraps a jeweled band around her horns, and in the end she spreads a pair of black wings, separate from her white ones, wide upward.
Habit
Before healing she watches whether the other's shadow trembles, trusting the body's reaction more than "I'm fine." She always leaves a word behind even at gatherings she was not invited to.
Catchphrase
"Hold still. Right now resting is better than holding on."
Weakness
She hesitates at the moment of approaching an ally who fears her.
Proud of
She remembers the unique arrangement of feathers on every wing she has once healed.
Likes
Someone who stays quietly by her side, night flowers, allies who spread their own wings and stood up again. She dislikes judgments made by appearance alone, words that force healing and bravado that hides wounds.
Secret
The purple inside the jewel on her staff has glowed since the day the oldest wound healed.
Gets on with
Samshin Grangoose โ Malegoosent tends the wounds that do not show, Samshin Grangoose the strength to live again. Strange to each other's ways at first, in front of an injured goose they fall into step without a word.
Awkward with
Noodlegoose โ no invitation ever came, so she turned up late, and the gathering happened to be Noodlegoose's feast. They have not met each other's eyes since.
Weather & seasons
On long winter nights she tends wounds until late, and when spring comes she quietly leaves a single night flower.
When Malegoosent passes by, the arena's torches look purple for a moment. Because of the horn-shaped ornaments, the black and violet-tinged cloak and the jeweled staff, a goose seeing her for the first time steps back. But the first place she looks is at the side of the injured. She supports a hurt wing so it is not forced open and waits until the patient finds the courage to say it hurts. Her magic is closer to a purple warmth that returns slowly, the way eyes adjust to the night, than to a bright white light that erases wounds. On the other hand, the moment an enemy's healing is about to turn the tide, she gathers that light into a single point and lays a curse. She is a mage who tends those who need tending and cuts off the road to recovery for the other side. A goose that long looked like an object of fear has an eye for other people's fear. When a recovered ally thanks her, she answers briefly, "Next time, tell me before it hurts." The black wings spread only at the highest level. They cast shade for her allies and an inescapable gaze on anyone who tries to heal the enemy. She rarely smiles, but she lingers astonishingly long over others' pain. She remembers the name of a goose who cannot take a herb before she memorizes the herb's name.