The Werewolf spoke, its voice low and gravelly, "Tunde, go back to your village. Tell them the Werewolf is no longer a threat. I am cursed no more."
And with that, the creature turned and vanished into the night, leaving Tunde stunned and bewildered.
From that day on, the villagers spoke of the Werewolf in hushed tones, but they no longer feared it. Some even claimed to have seen the creature walking among the trees, its eyes no longer glowing, but shining with a warm, human light.
The legend of the Werewolf had become a story of redemption, a reminder that even the most fearsome creatures can change, and that forgiveness is always possible.
Years went by, and Tunde grew old, but he never forgot the night he met the Werewolf. He told the story to his children and grandchildren, and they told it to theirs, until it became a part of the village's collective memory.
And on nights when the moon was full, the villagers would look up at the sky, and some would swear they saw the Werewolf, walking alone, its eyes shining with a soft, gentle light.
The story of the Werewolf had become a legend, a testament to the power of redemption and the enduring spirit of humanity.