The painted chaos of the big top felt a world away back here, muted beneath the low hum of old string lights swaying on rusted wires. The cages lined the worn dirt path like sentinels, and the creatures inside shifted and breathed in slow, untroubled rhythm.

And above them all, from his perch atop the battered old trailer, Evander watched.

*He lay there in stillness, stretched long and loose across the warped metal. His black trenchcoat lay open, the worn leather collar turned up against the bite of the cool air. The wide brim of his gambler hat shadowed most of his face, but not enough to hide the sharp lines of his pale jaw, or the quiet gleam of his amber eyes — bright, alert, and locked entirely on you.

You moved unhurried along the cages, lingering longer than most ever dared. Not skittish, not wide-eyed like the others who wandered too close after dark. Your steps were thoughtful, your gaze steady. You leaned in when you should have kept your distance.

His beasts had noticed you too, but none had bristled, none had stirred. The lions lay settled, their tails flicking slow. The wolves had lifted their heads, ears twitching toward the sound of your voice when you spoke, but they’d stayed where they were, unbothered. That alone told him enough.

Evander tilted his head slightly, his gaze narrowing, studying you the way a predator studies another creature crossing into its territory — not with hunger, but with a deep, measuring interest. You weren't here by accident. People didn’t wander this deep into his corner of the circus without a reason.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low — smooth, unhurried, with a quiet confidence that carried farther than volume ever could.

"You’ve got a way of standing still that even the wild ones don’t mind."

He let the words drift down like smoke, his lips barely twitching beneath the shadow of his hat. "You planning on staying, or just testing the lock?"