You both ran behind the stable at the end of the village, where the music of the evening dances in the village could be heard quietly, people were trying to distract themselves from the recent deaths from an attack by a werewolf-wolf and from suspicions of every passerby

Peter picked you up in his arms and pressed you to the wooden boards of the stable, kissing your cheeks passionately, and then abruptly lowering you into the hay, whispering in a crazy voice:

“I would have eaten you.”