You keep pulling, but your hand is stuck fast in that corpse. Pulling seems to stretch it slightly, but not nearly enough to help. Knowing that you'll have to cut the body open, you turn to open the door so you can go through it, drag the wolf to the kitchen, and carve it open with a knife. However, your plans hit a bit of a hitch when you feel something tickling at your wrist.
Looking down your arm, you see that the purple latex of the wolf has turned the same white as your foot around the wound and is slowly but surely creeping its way up your arm. You instinctively pull again as, inch by inch, it consumes what remains of your wrist and moves on to your lower arm. You struggle with every fiber of your being, but to no avail - you only succeed in wasting time, and are now coated halfway up your forearm in the smooth white substance. Pulling won't work; your only hope lies with those knives.
Making your way into the hall, you drag the corpse attached to you through it. It's lighter than it looks, but still has enough of a heft to slow you down. You can feel that rubbery stuff reaching your elbow, but try not to think of it as you finally reach the kitchen. Not wasting a second, you grab a knife and chop at the body as hard as you can, quickly freeing your arm (now coated to the shoulder) from its clutches.