As you enter the basement, your nose is immediately hit with the scent of stale sweat and fur. Even among all the treated wood and supplies of all kinds, the smell of a werewolf is still what dominates the air. Carefully stepping down inside, you see a familiar pair of eyes following you. They're not filled with as much anger or madness, but moreso... annoyance and distaste. You take your time lighting all of the torches, their soft glow filling up the room and allowing you to see. Just as the last time you've paid him a visit, the werewolf sits there in the corner, tied up with many layers of thick ropes. Masterfully bound, if you may say so yourself.

Release me. He demands in a monotone tone, the rumble of his deep voice almost sensible in your chest. Even his breathing sounds like one of a creature many times his size.