Sam wandered into the village, clearly desperate and in search of help. A man saw the wound on her arm, and suggested she might have been attacked by a werewolf. She nodded, explaining that much, if a bit embarrassed to explain the rest, and followed him to a sturdy brick building. She was lead inside, somewhat alarmed to see a a bed flanked by heavy duty manacles.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to chain you up here, make sure you don't turn into a wolf and kill us all, you understand."
Sam nodded, as it did seem like a good precaution. Once she was fully restrained, she asked how long a cure would take.
"Oh, no, no sweetie. We wouldn't dream of anything like that. Certain kind of man pays a hefty sum of gold for a dangerous little thing like you, and they say sometimes those with the curse birth wolves with just enough human to'em to make the best hunting dogs. Don't know if that bit's true, but we'll see in time!"
Sam panicked, thrashing at the chains, but they wouldn't budge. She was really trapped there, in some sort of werewolf brothel, completely at the mercy of a man she really shouldn't have trusted.
It's best, perhaps, that we don't dwell on how Sam was treated over the next few days. Let's just skip ahead to what happened on the next full moon.