On a warm August night, a young woman and a grammar-school boy were traveling in a chaise through a dusty road.
The previous evening, a wolf had audaciously killed a sheep in the village, causing a commotion. The young woman, nervous about the incident, was lighting matches and throwing them into the darkness, while the boy was trying to kiss her.
“I’m afraid of the wolves!” she cries, and again a match flares up, then a flash of lightning, and the dark is still more densely blinding with its warm blackness.
She eventually gave in to his advances, but their moment was interrupted when the chaise hit something and the driver shouted, "Wolves!"
“Wolves!” he cries. Their eyes are struck by the glow of a fire in the distance to the right.
They saw a fire in the distance, and near it, three large wolves with eyes that glowed green and red. The horses, spooked by the sight, bolted off the road and into a ploughed field. The chaise careened wildly, and the woman, in an attempt to control the horses, jumped into the driver's seat and cut her cheek on something made of iron.
This incident left a scar on her lip, which she would fondly recall in later years. She would tell the story of that summer night, the fear of wolves, and her reckless bravery in trying to stop the runaway horses. Those who loved her found the scar endearing, likening it to a permanent, delicate smile.