She dances like there's nobody watching. She embraces adventure like there's no tomorrow. She wears top hats in the street, even when everyone's looking. Because top hats are great, and she knows that's what everyone is thinking when they look.
Death doesn't blink when people rant, rave and spin stories so fantastical that anyone else would be sneering by now. (She knows those reports could possibly be true.) Instead she cuts through to the crux of the matter and fixes it.
Or offers a hot-dog. Or a Band Aid. Or a needle and thread to sew the tear in your jeans. Or a trip outside your comfort zone, into a place that will possibly help you see the world anew.
She teaches us to reach beyond mere survival into the wondrous grasping of all that it means to be alive. Perhaps because Death, more than any being, knows how impermanent existence will be. She's heard every death-bed regret ever uttered. She learned to love life and smiles at it so fondly, as she snuffs it out.
Of all the Endless, Death seems the most like us. A better, brighter, more brilliant version of living, breathing things. Yet she is still Death, the destroyer of us all.
Now, would anyone like an apple? They're deeee-lissssh!