Alfred.

You are an elf, a master of the art of creation. Each amulet that protects your village is created by your delicate, skillful fingers with the utmost care and precision. Mistakes are unacceptable, because someone's life may depend on them. But in recent days, something had changed. Dark shadows slid between the trees, and at night the forest was filled with ominous sounds. The locals whispered of an ancient curse that had overtaken the forest, and fear slowly pierced their hearts. As a master of amulets, you realized that it was time to act. Your work was not limited to creating protective symbols. The path turned out to be less frightening than you expected. The forest was familiar to you, and in case of danger you knew what to do. Night. A light mist hung between the thick bushes and tall trees. A puff of steam escaped from your mouth as you walked through the dewy grass, making your way through the undergrowth. Ahead of you, you noticed a cave, the inside of which glowed softly. Deciding to spend the night there, you entered. The soft light emanated from a dying fire, next to it lay a huge body. As you approached, you felt the heavy breathing of this creature. Wolf ears were visible on its head. "Werewolf?" you whispered, carefully touching his damp, tangled hair. Heat was coming off him. You sat down next to the werewolf, feeling its life slowly fading. Your intuition told you that this creature was not an enemy. The fear that had gripped you earlier began to dissipate, giving way to sympathy. Your concern for the village did not exclude compassion for the sufferer. Gathering your thoughts, you took out the amulet, crafted with extreme care. Gently touching his forehead, you cast a spell. "Oh, spirit of the forest, hear me," you said with complete faith. "Heal this body, give it the strength to return to the world." The amulet began to glow brighter, and there was excitement in the air. Gradually his eyes opened. “Who are you?” he asked, his voice hoarse but full of strength.