"They say there's no such place… as Paradise.
Even if you search to the ends of the Earth, there's nothing there. No matter how far you walk, it's always the same road. It just goes on and on…
But in spite of that, why am I so driven to find it?
A voice calls to me… It says: "Search for Paradise."
I don't know if it is my own or if it's someone else. Sometimes it comes as a harsh bark, sometimes as a friendly urging on, or a whining, other times as a soft feline purr.
I don't tell the difference between the tones of the voice anymore, the message is the only important part, but I KNOW I have to keep going, I feel like I owe it to the voice or voices or whatever they are.
I have to keep going for that unknown Paradise. I have never seen it, cannot imagine it but I know it's out there, somewhere behind the snow. It's like I can feel it but cannot describe it.
How long the road is does not matter. I will find the Lunar Flower… just a little longer…"
The wolf collapsed into the surrounding snow. His white fur blended in with the snow and the only way to know he was there at all were the two yellow orbs above his snout. Even at the brink of death the wolf's eyes radiated with an intensity specific to him, and him only. His body was on the brink of collapse but his soul burned with the same conviction as when he started the journey. His eyelids closed slowly, to rest, so he could get to Paradise. He knew he would get there eventually, even if it took him an eternity.
"Yes. No matter how many times I have to try, I will get there. Even death itself will not stop me." Just as his eyes closed he could have sworn he saw a flower there in the snow. A flower as white as the snow itself. A flower which looked to be reaching out for the moon. Then there was complete darkness. Not the darkness as the night darkness when the stars or the moon shine. A complete darkness without anything to it. It felt… familiar. Like the embrace a mother offers to a young cub.
The wolf could not remember anything, only blurry images. Then there was snow again.
"A snow storm." He whispered, before the wolf fell onto something hard. He didn't try to get up but he could smell wood and leaves around him. He decided to rest for now.