"So, what now?" he asked, more to break the silence than anything.
The werewolf's ears perked up and it tilted its head at him. Up close, he could see that its eyes were actually several shades of green. The main color was a bright emerald, but it was mixed with grassy-green and a few flecks of pine around the edges. They would have been beautiful on a human.
"I mean, neither of us can move," Xarles continued. "Your pack is probably too far away to hear you, or it would have come here by now."
At this, the beast let out a mournful keening noise that sounded surprisingly human.
Xarles frowned. "Wait, can you understand me?"
It huffed quietly and nodded its head.
After digesting this new information, Xarles wet his lips nervously. "Um, how about we make a deal?"
The creature tilted its head, perking its ears toward him again.
"Yeah," Xarles continued eagerly. "We'll make a deal!" His father would kill him if he ever found out, but right now, he just wanted to get home alive. "If I cut the thorn bush and let you go, do you promise to leave and never bring your pack to my village?"
The bushy tail of the beast started to actually wag back and forth in the face of this offer. The werewolf stepped backward, panting eagerly. It bobbed its head in what was clearly a nod.
Xarles swallowed. "Okay. I'm standing up, now." Slowly, he got to his feet. The werewolf stayed put. He still kept half an eye on it as he searched the bracken for the dagger. For a moment, he wondered if it was lost forever. Then, his toe nudged against the brass hilt.
Holding it tightly, he walked over to the beast's bound ankle. He couldn't help but wince when he saw it up close. A shaft of moonlight showed a mass of reddish-orange fur that was matted with blood. The thorn branch had wrapped itself around the ankle several times.
At that moment, he should have slit the beast's throat. It was helpless, and its guard was down. Killing it now would be easy. The thought caused an uncomfortable sensation to rise in Xarles's stomach. The creature could have easily killed him when he got up. If it was as much of a savage as werewolves were supposed to be, it would have. Yet, for some reason, it was holding perfectly still.
Also, something felt wrong about breaking his promise, even if it was a promise to an unholy beast. Huntsmen were supposed to be honorable, after all. With that in mind, Xarles turned his mind resolutely away from the monster's exposed throat and to its bound leg.
Carefully, he grabbed the branch and started sawing at it. Every time he tugged too hard, the wolf let out a whimper. He apologized without knowing why and tried to be gentler. He eventually managed to cut through. Carefully, he took the branch and started unwrapping it. When he finally pulled it off, blood flowed freely from the wound. He quickly jumped back. Even though he hadn't pricked his fingers, he couldn't risk mingling the werewolf's blood with his own. That would turn him as surely as any bite.
The werewolf moved away from him. In the process of doing that, it crawled into the moonlight, which illuminated the rest of its red fur. It bent its head and started licking at its bleeding ankle.
Xarles watched the beast with a small degree of fascination. He had been raised on stories of how werewolves were evil creatures that needed to be eliminated. But here was a creature acting every bit as harmless as an injured pup.
"You are just a pup, aren't you?" he realized. If the beast were to stand on its hind legs, it would be just a little taller than him.
The red wolf paused in its licking to look up at him. Its ears flattened and a very human-like grimace crossed its muzzle for a split second.
Xarles let out a small laugh when he saw the expression. "I guess we're both breaking the rules tonight, huh?" Before he realized what he was doing, he tore a thick strip from his blue sleep shirt and held out the cloth. "Here. Bind your ankle with that."
The werewolf's eyes widened. It stood perfectly still, looking as unsure as Xarles felt. Then, slowly, it limped over and reached out, taking the strip of cloth from him. For an instant, its furry paw brushed against Xarles's fingers. They both shivered and backed away from each other.
Xarles watched while the creature used its surprisingly-nimble hands to wrap its ankle. He looked up at the sky. If he wanted to hide the evidence of his little adventure, he'd have to hurry home. "I need to go, now," he said quietly. "Remember your promise, okay?"
The red wolf let out a soft bark and nodded before turning and running into the trees. Xarles waited for the sound of its pawsteps to fade before leaving the forest and going back to his house.
It wasn't until after he was in bed that the full magnitude of what he had done struck him. I saw a werewolf, one of the most feared beasts in the world, up close! he thought before his stomach twisted with shame. And I let it go.
He vowed that no one would ever learn of what he had done.