She adjusted her red hood calmly, aware of the effect. She wasn't in a hurry—she liked being watched. The wolf noticed before he saw her. Something in the way she walked, in the silence she maintained. When their eyes met, neither of them recoiled. The tension did the work on its own. She smiled as if inviting without promising. He understood that this night wouldn't be about arriving first—but about enduring until the end. And that, for both of them, was already delightful.