Maybe it's the wounds, maybe it's the vines, maybe it's John's voice reciting poetry rather than curses, but the wolf does finally stop struggling and sags in his binding, defeated. It doesn't smell like chains, but it feels like chains, and he knows chains. He can't get free from chains.

John coming closer will result in a growl and a half-hearted snap, but he'll be too slow and clumsy, drained by the trees trying and failing to reverse the non-native curse, to do more than that.