Long had it wandered the ruins of the fallen city, its thunderous steps rattling the decaying windows, its deep, mournful growls echoing through the abandoned streets. Travelers unlucky enough to come too close would feel its crushing grip and taste the putrid scent of its foul breath before being thrown aside like a ragdoll, never to move again.

The beast did not take joy in the slaughter. It watched the corpses of its victims, feeling nothing, and continued on its way. It did not understand why its body moved of its own accord. It did not remember its past life. It did not remember anything, yet the knowledge that it should have known more remained. It used to be someone. It used to have a heart, it used to—

It stopped in its tracks. A human, unconscious, lay in the middle of the road, beaten black and blue and bloody. The creature hesitated, a strange emotion rising in its chest. It was a feeling that the beast did not recognize, and had not felt in a long, long time.

Gingerly, it bent down, lifting the limp body, and brought the human's face close to its own. The wounds were not fatal, but extensive and doubtlessly painful. And this human was...pretty. Pretty, and soft, and delicate. Something in the recesses of its mind stirred at the sight, its vacant eyes gleaming with life for the first time in...how long, again?

With care, the creature took the human to an abandoned home. With water from the old well, it washed the human clean; with spells it didn't remember knowing, it mended the human's wounds. Once it was satisfied, the beast stood up, looking down at its charge, now laying on a bed.

When the human began to stir, it panicked, trying in vain to hide its massive frame behind a pillar. Timidly, it peeked out.