That winter was extremely cold, the snow reached up to the waist, and at night you could hear howling. The villagers tried not to go toward the forest unless absolutely necessary. It was dangerous there: you could get stuck in the snow, freeze, lose your way, and in the worst case accidentally end up on a wolf trail.

But sometimes there was no choice. When the pipes froze and water stopped reaching the houses, one of the men had to go into the forest to clear the old underground pipeline.

That’s what happened that day as well. The man, used to hard winter work, put a heavy backpack filled with tools on his shoulders and headed toward the forest. The cold burned his face, the snow crunched beneath his feet, but he walked with confidence.

Halfway there, on a wide snow-covered field, he noticed a dark shape. At first he thought it was an abandoned sheep or a sack. But the closer he got, the clearer it became that it was a wolf.

He was about to step back, turn around, and run, when he saw that the wolf wasn’t moving. Only a small pup circled around, whining, rubbing its snout against its mother’s side, trying to lick her.

The man listened. The she-wolf was breathing heavily and unevenly. She had likely been caught in a trap.

It was frightening, of course. Everyone knows a wounded predator is unpredictable. But his conscience tortured him. Walk past? Leave them to die? Even if they were wolves… it didn’t feel right.

He took off his backpack, slowly knelt down, and tried not to make any sudden movements. He examined the wound. The animal was alive.

He pulled out a knife, cut the wire the wolf had likely been trapped in, disinfected the wound with alcohol, and covered the animal with his old jacket to keep her warm.

When the she-wolf opened her eyes, the man carefully stood up and hurried toward the forest without waiting for gratitude or looking back. A wild animal remains a wild animal. He did a good deed — and that was enough.

He thought the story ended there, but the next morning the entire village was shocked by what they saw. 

Continuation in the first comment 

People ran outside, some crying, others crossing themselves. The man stepped out — and saw wolf tracks everywhere, broken cages, and of the twenty chickens maybe five were left. In the snow there was blood, feathers, and mud. Around the houses were the tracks of an entire pack.

It turned out the wolves had come into the village at night. Not by accident. They were following a smell. And that smell was human. The same smell left on the injured she-wolf the man had rescued the day before. The pack had found her, smelled the human scent — and headed straight for the village.

They prowled all night, howled under the windows, tried to break into the barn, and terrified the villagers nearly to death. One man was almost dragged away by the arm when he went out to check on the dogs.

So the villagers had to take guns and torches and chase the wolves back into the forest. Some animals were shot; otherwise they wouldn’t have stopped.

That’s how it is — you do a good deed, and in return…