There was a big frost in the mountains. The lake was almost completely covered with ice, but in one place the water still remained free. There the wolf struggled. He fell into a hole and could not get out.

The ice crumbled under his paws, he slipped and fell into the water again. He was getting weaker by the minute. He could barely keep his head out of the water, his breathing was heavy, his fur was soaked, and he was dragged into the water.

An old woman was walking nearby, collecting brushwood. She heard a splash and a strange, hoarse sound. Coming closer, she saw a huge gray wolf drowning. The beast had almost stopped fighting.

The old woman did not think about fear – in front of her stood a wild animal that could be dangerous. She quickly found a long, dry branch, lay down on the ice so as not to fall, and carefully crawled to the hole. The ice cracked under her, but she moved slowly and carefully.

“Hold on,” she said quietly, and held out the branch.

The wolf grinned at first, but he did not have the strength to be angry. He grabbed the stick with his front paws. The woman pulled him. The man’s hands trembled, his back ached, but he did not let go. The ice cracked again, water splashed over the edge, and finally the wolf’s heavy body was on the surface.

The beast lay there, panting. One of its hind paws was twisted – it was clear that it had broken. The wolf did not try to attack. She simply looked at the woman, as if she understood that she had saved her life.

But at that moment… They came out of the forest… The old woman froze in fear.

The woman was about to crawl back when she suddenly felt someone’s gaze on her.

Shadows slowly emerged from behind the trees. Ten pairs of eyes flashed in the frosty air. It was a pack. The wolves smelled human scent and were approaching, ready to attack. They did not understand that this person had pulled their companion out of the icy water.

The old woman froze. There was nowhere to run, and there was no time.

And at that moment the wounded wolf struggled to his feet. He stood in front of the woman, covered her with his body, and growled at the pack. The growl was weak, but there was determination in it. The wolf looked at his own, as if to make it clear that this woman was not to be touched.

The pack stopped. For a few seconds, no one moved. Then one of the wolves lowered its head, and the others slowly began to retreat.

The wounded wolf looked back at the woman once more. There was no fear or anger in his gaze—only calm. After a few seconds, he turned and limped back to his backpack. The woman was left alone on the ice. The wind blew the snow back as if nothing had happened.