It's a fitting analogy, one she'll think about long after their conversation is over. "Maybe that's why I prefer biology," she muses quietly. "I'd rather study life than try to tear it apart."

His admission gives her a warm feeling, one that makes her smile shyly and pick at the crumbs on her plate. But that smile is lost when he asks his question, her expression uncertain. "I... I don't know. I've seen some horrible things. When Caspar died, it... it wasn't pretty." Her grip tightens around her fork as she tries and fails to suppress a shudder. "I still have nightmares about it sometimes. But... I don't pass out or get sick at the sight of blood, and... and I want to help. That's more important than my discomfort."