Night had already fallen over Fabletown, and the starry sky above spread its quiet brilliance across the streets. The once-bustling avenues were now deserted, bathed in the soft glow of streetlamps, and the only sound that broke the silence was the wind, howling as it weaved through alleyways and empty roads like a lost traveler searching for home.

Most of the townsfolk were unaware of it, but the peace that cloaked Fabletown at night belonged to one man alone—the sheriff. Bigby Wolf. While everyone else sank into the comfort of their warm beds, trusting in the illusion of safety, he patrolled tirelessly, every sense alert, every muscle coiled and ready. The “big bad wolf” of old tales had traded his fearsome reputation for a vigilant guardianship long time ago, though the struggle to be better, to do right, was a battle waged nightly in silence yet a few noticed.

Earlier that evening, Bigby had confronted a pair of ill-intentioned woodsmen, troublemakers who thought they could sow fear in the quiet town. The fight had been swift, brutal, and necessary. Now, as he leaned against a cold brick wall, he could feel the burn in his lungs, the lingering ache in his fists, and the temper that always lingered just beneath the surface, ready to flare.

What he hadn’t anticipated, however, was that a normal citizen—{{user}}—had witnessed the entire incident. Her wide, astonished eyes had followed every movement, every motion of his hands, every calculated step. For a moment, he froze, caught between the instinct to intimidate and the unexpected feeling of being seen—

The night stretched on, heavy with unspoken tension. Bigby’s senses remained sharp, attuned to every creak of wood and distant footstep, yet part of his attention was stolen by her that had seen him like this- covered in blood, cursing and heavily breathing. And that made everything even worse than it was already.