One of Wolf's brows -- just the one, his expression (mostly) tempered for the occasion -- notches slightly as he takes in Matthew's garb. It's... brighter than he'd expected the man's wardrobe to be, albeit less of a surprise if he thinks back on that lime green shirt from before. If anything, the snowflake-shaped edges of his cloak are what he finds stranger.
"...I guess winter's a big deal in Ostia," he mumbles, mostly to himself.
"What makes you say that?"
Sharp ears can never help but overhear - it's deciding whether to act on what he's heard that's the fun part, usually. Most of the time, he files whispers away for future reference, on an 'as-needed' basis.
Might be it's a rhetorical question though, as Matthew hums and, upon taking in Wolf's own garb for himself, he forges ahead, curiosity his better:
"Hmmm, they've got you working tonight, do they? That's no fun." Suppose it makes sense. Many of the faculty from the monastery proper have taken leave of their duties for the night, that they might enjoy the festivities. As for Matthew, well, he's mostly just a courier, and there's nothing so pressing to deliver that can't wait until the morning on such a magical eve as this, so…
So, he can make the most of the free food and plentiful people-watching both. Don't mind him while he does just that!
But, first things first, he has a no-fun-allowed face to bother just a little more:
"Oh! But they've still given you a bouquet, I see," he peeks, glancing behind Wolf to see it sat on the table. Not quite discarded, but suitably out of the way - practical, if one were being generous. Matthew grins, and proffers a red hyacinth with a flourish.
"Trade me?~"
He probably won't take no for an answer, mister Wolf. Better to just get the game over with.
