Unethical

The infant, barely old enough to crawl under their own power, gurgled happily, reaching for the bright scales and shining cursed bracelet just above it, heedless of the fact that those items were attached to a dragon.

The dragon peered down at the infant, hopeful and conflicted as the child reached again for the cursed bracelet. Who knew if such a chance would ever arise again? It had been so long...

It wasn't the most ethical of actions, no matter what measure one used, or what excuses they dreamed up. Of course, if morals and ethics had been of any great concern to the dragon, they likely never would have been transformed into one in the first place. Curses were annoying like that.

There was a chance that the curse wouldn't transfer. Most of the time, the curse passed on when the dragon was slain by an adventurer greedy for their horde, who took the cursed item with the horde and triggered their transformation by caring more for the gold than the protection of those the dragon preyed upon. That was how the dragon had assumed their current form, those many centuries ago.

(The dragon would still assert that the desire to be more than a mere soldier, to afford a life of comfort and ease wasn't Greed, exactly, and it was easier to relate to one's own gain than to the hypothetical sentiments of random strangers they would never meet and who were probably long-dead by the time they came across the horde, but arguing semetics with a cursed item had met with little success so far.)

Infants... an argument could be made that the child was not yet old enough to know the difference between a need and a desire, since at that age every desire - for food, comfort, changing, physical bonding - was also an un-met need. The desire for the cursed bracelet was also the need to explore and learn about the world around them.

It was also probably the only chance the dragon would get to be rid of the bracelet that didn't involve some over-enthusiastic Hero waving about a deadly weapon, and a chance to pass on the curse without risking death or dismemberment didn't come along every century.

Voices and hurried footsteps were approaching - the child's parents, caught off-guard by how far and fast the infant could crawl, seeking their lost spawn - and that decided the dragon. They allowed the child to slip the cursed bracelet off their foreleg, squealing in delight at the new and very over-sized teething ring. There was a tingling, like the distant memory of movement after having been still for too long, and a shout of alarm.

The dragon launched themselves into the air, determined to be as far away as possible before the parents arrived and tried to give the bracelet back. Preferably before the transformation reversed and they lost the use of their wings, too.

The infant giggled in delight, before biting down on the shiny ring. It was smooth and cold against her sore gums, and she was glad that it was hers now. She hadn't meant to leave her teething ring behind when she went exploring, but it was too bulky to carry with her when she crawled.

She could hear her parents' voices, calling her name, and chewed on the shiny ring some more. Voices usually meant food, and she wanted her gums to stop hurting before she ate. The cold goo Mummy put on her gums to sooth them left such a bitter aftertaste! The shiny ring was clearly a far better choice.

Mummy and Daddy burst into the clearing, looking around frantically, and Mummy scooped her into her arms. "There you are, Astrid! How did you get away so fast?"

Daddy chuckled, leaning against a tree. "Never underestimate how fast kids can move, once you turn your back. It's right up there with 'how did a two year old even get that high?' on the list on inexplicable phenomenons."

Mummy gave him a reproving look, and didn't take the shiny ring away as she carried Astrid back to where they had been having their picnic.

Daddy tried, when they were packing up to go home, but Astrid scowled and refused to let go. It was her teething ring! There was a tingling shiver, starting at her toes and moving up her whole body, but the shiny ring would make it better...

Kristoff stared down at his daughter, trying to determine if she had actually just growled at him when he tried to pack away her latest teething ring. There was an odd shimmer about her, but that was probably just a trick of the light. It had been a good year for the Aurora Boralis, and it was dark enough, even this early in the afternoon, for the lights to appear.

Gerda went to pick up Astrid, to settle her in the car, and stopped dead. "Erm..."

He turned around, and instantly understood the problem. Where their daughter had been sitting, was a tiny dragon, the shredded remains of a child's onesie scattered on the ground around it.

A thousand thoughts swirled in his head. How had this happened? (The new teething ring and a curse was the most likely culprit - Kristoff had paid enough attention in History to know the legends of dragons and cursed treasure). How on earth were he and Gerda going to explain this to their extended family, much less Child Protective Services, when they came home missing a baby and with an "exotic lizard" that Kristoff had no idea how to even begin getting permits for? Was there any way to turn Astrid back? Perhaps she could be persuaded to give up the golden bracelet in favor of an actual teething ring? Did that even work when there wasn't someone to pass the curse onto?

Gerda shook her head, her face clearly expressing that she shared a lot of his thoughts. "This was not covered in parenting class."

A reluctant, involuntary laugh burst from his lips. "Well, it's not exactly a common experience."

Astrid's expressions were a lot harder to read as a dragonet, but Kristoff was mostly sure that she was pouting, followed by an annoyed spurt of flame. Gerda sighed, "They didn't cover fireproofing everything when we learned how to make a house baby-safe, either."

Another thing to add to the worry list. Their attention was drawn back to Astrid when she perked up, and then to the woods at the sound of a bark, and the scrape of claws on rock. A sudden idea sprung to Kristoff's mind.

It was wildly unethical, boiling down to shoving his problems onto some other poor person, but they could feel guilty about that later.

A dog burst into the clearing, chasing a stick and skidding to a halt nearly at Gerda's feet. The dog dropped the stick, and Gerda picked it up, subtly slipping the golden bracelet onto the stick. "Do you want to throw the stick for the puppy, Astrid?"

The dragonet wiggled with glee, managing to grip and throw the stick clumsily, despite the lack of opposable thumbs. The stick didn't go very far, but the dog didn't care, picking it up just as its owner jogged into view.

Gerda hastily scooped up Astrid and got her into the car, covering her carrier car-seat with a fire blanket. Kristoff waved to the jogger as they bent down to pick up the stick, and pealed out of the carpark before the jogger could ask questions.

A shimmer came from Astrid's carrier, and Gerda squirmed in her seat. "I feel a little bad about that, but more relieved that we aren't the ones dealing with it."

Kristoff nodded, more guilty for not feeling guilty. "A little like a game of Hot Potato with that cursed bracelet, isn't it? Hopefully the rest of our holiday is less exciting."

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