The winter was bitterly cold, the snow was waist deep, and howling could be heard at night. The inhabitants made an effort to avoid approaching the woodland unless it was absolutely required. There was a risk of being lost, freezing, becoming stranded in the snow, and, worst of all, unintentionally finding yourself on a wolf trail.
Sometimes, however, there was no other option. One of the men had to walk into the forest to clean the old subterranean pipeline after the pipes froze and the water stopped getting to the residences.
That was also the case that day. A hefty bag full of tools was placed on the man’s shoulders as he made his way toward the woodland, accustomed to rigorous winter labor. Even though the snow crunched underfoot and the cold scorched his face, he moved confidently.
He saw a black form halfway there on a large field blanketed with snow. He initially believed it to be a sack or an abandoned sheep. But the further he approached, the more obvious it was that it was a wolf.
When he noticed that the wolf was not moving, he was ready to back off, turn around, and flee. Just a tiny puppy whimpered, rubbed its muzzle against its mother’s side, and attempted to lick her as it circled about.
The dude paid attention. The she-wolf’s breathing was labored and irregular. Most likely, she had fallen victim to a trap.
Of course, it was frightening. A wounded predator is unpredictable, as everyone knows. But he was tormented by his guilt. Pass by? Let them perish? It felt wrong, even if they were wolves.
He removed his rucksack, knelt down cautiously, and made an effort to avoid making any abrupt movements. He looked at the wound. It was a living creature.
He took out his knife, removed the cable the wolf had probably been stuck in, cleaned the wound with alcohol, and put his old jacket over the animal to keep her warm.
Without waiting for thanks or turning around, the man cautiously got to his feet and rushed into the forest as soon as the she-wolf opened her eyes. An animal that is wild stays that way. He performed a good deed, and that was sufficient.
He believed the story stopped there, but what they witnessed the following morning shook the entire hamlet 
Some were crying, others were crossing themselves as they raced outside. When the man walked outside, he discovered broken cages, wolf footprints all over the place, and perhaps five of the twenty hens were still alive. There was muck, feathers, and blood in the snow. There were the footprints of a whole pack around the dwellings.
The wolves had entered the village at night, it turned out. Not by chance. They were pursuing an odor. And it smelled human. The injured she-wolf that the man had saved the day before had the same odor. After locating her and detecting the human scent, the pack immediately made their way to the settlement.
They tried to break into the barn, howled beneath the windows, prowled all night, and scared the villagers almost to death. When one man walked outside to see how the dogs were doing, he was nearly pulled away by the arm.
In order to drive the wolves back into the forest, the villagers had to gather weapons and candles. The animals wouldn’t have stopped if they hadn’t been shot.
That’s how it works: you perform a good deed, and in exchange…
