I paced  through the forest, my breath fogging in the chilly air. Against the near-silence of night, the twigs that snapped beneath my feet sounded like the crash of sword against sword.

And in this absence of sound, the panting breath of a bloodthirsty creature became clear. Its fur glinted silver in the moonlight, showing in patches between the trees. A werewolf.

The werewolf crouched below the gap between two roots of a huge oak tree. A small fox was curled beneath the roots, its leg twisted at an odd angle. The werewolf reached toward the fox. It was trapped, and the werewolf was going to kill it! I started toward the fox but stopped again. If I showed myself, the werewolf could kill me, too.

I saw the shine in the werewolf’s eyes and its claws glinting in the moonlight that filtered through the tree roots. I could picture blood coating those claws in moments.

“Stop it! What are you doing? Don’t hurt that fox!” I ran out from behind the tree.

The werewolf turned, and now its claws pointed toward me as if to say: This is my prey. Don’t touch it. It growled, and I backed away. That didn’t work as well as I thought it would.

Then I noticed something. The werewolf had positioned itself directly between the fox and me. The fox itself had barely moved through all the commotion, and a leaf had been wrapped around its broken leg. The werewolf’s eyes shone with a hint of fear, not greed. Fear for the fox.

The werewolf is protecting the fox.

I stood and stepped away from the monster—no. It wasn’t a monster.

The werewolf shuddered and fell to its knees, emitting a strangled cry. Its body contorted and shrank, transforming into a girl kneeling in front of the fox, no older than myself.

She was mortal and had a human heart, just like me.