Luke looked down at the little baby as he sheathed his sword, shocked that she was even alive. Her mother’s body was curled around her, arms holding her close in a protective embrace. He had found the child’s father dead in a puddle of blood by the front door. The house was a mess, completely ransacked. The only living thing was the little girl. He bent down, gently moving her mother’s arms and lifting the wailing infant up and against his chest. “Shhh, now, now little one, it’s alright.” He said softly as he carried her out of the house and over to where he had dropped his pack. He pulled his blanket out and wrapped it around her then laid her down. He couldn’t leave her parents like they were, but he also didn’t have time to bury them.