"Please, help him! You're his only chance!" The voice was rough and cackled. The man yelling was tall, muscular, and armed. Well armed. However, he was bleeding profusely from the head and right thigh. He had a child in his arms. It was being held out to me.
"I can't. It's not my duty to see to the survival of your child." I blinked once. I had to keep emotion out of this. I couldn't let him know why I really didn't want to hold or care for his child. He didn't know of my curse. Anything and everything I cared for or touched was instantly frozen in time, never allowed to age.
"Take him, damn it! Don't let him die!" He shoved the kid into my arm. I gasped but held on. It was useless now. I quickly slithered behind a collection of boulders and saw the old man turn towards the coming army. He fought valiantly but there were too many of them. He was slaughtered. They kept going, passing us both. Since then, I've watched over this child. Many centuries passed since then. Yet, I still find myself caring after this child and slaying anyone who poses a lethal threat to him. I guess I love him...
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