Disclaimer: I do not own Wolf's Rain.

Chapter Two

A pensive silence settled over the earth, characteristic of a period of waiting. There was expectation on the wind. Soon now, an action to indicate an end to blissful rest – rest that gently stroked the senses with cold, crooked fingers; rest that promised an eternity of peace.

The wolves knew that peace was an illusion just as they knew that there is no rest in death. An urge born of an instinct to survive bade them to break the spell that winter cast.

Toboe followed the lead of his vehement alpha and scrambled to his paws, watching with interest as Kiba shook the snow from his own pale coat. He repeated the action absentmindedly, and stretched, feeling the blood heat in his veins as he urged his muscles to work. This action spurred a dull soreness in his flank as feeling flooded back to his cold body. Toboe groaned tiredly.

A wet nose nuzzled his shoulder, and the pup looked up into the knowing eyes of the ragged she-wolf. His ears perked with appreciation.

Their breaths misted before them as the five wolves moved through the frosty air, passing the bare black trunks of the forest that was their temporary shelter. Toboe felt like he was traveling through a dream, the only colour in the forest being that of his companions' rusty coats. The cold meddled with his senses and dulled the feeling of his body, and though somewhere in the back of his mind Toboe acknowledged it as a beckoning from death, he somehow felt more energized than before. His stomach was no longer complaining from hunger, yet the weightless daze that gripped the pup now was a different problem altogether. Winter was as renowned for its subtle promises of eternal rest as it was for its cruel blizzards.

The pack's steady trot through the forest warmed them somewhat, and the real world reestablished its grasp on their senses. Though their lungs seemed to be filled with icy needles, their blood was hot again. The glaze left their eyes and the numbness left their paws. It hurt steadily and wonderfully. It made them feel alive.

Hige snapped after Toboe, his fur standing on end and his ears perked forward. The pup responded by leaping into a run, bypassing Tsume and Collen. Hige lumbered after him, his tongue lolling, his eyes shining. The rest followed their lead, breaking into a steady run, working off the exhilaration that food and rest cast upon them; shaking off the winter's clutches and regaining control. As always, Kiba took the lead, Tsume close behind him. Collen stayed at the back, watching interestedly as Hige and Toboe nudged each other with playful growls.

The forest didn't wean – it thickened. The trees became more wild, the naked canopies somewhat preserving the dark earth at their base. The ground was more or less free of snow, yet a thin layer of ice covered the earth. The mud was hard and solid. The mountains were visible on the high horizon, beckoning the wolves with their hypnotizing sameness, their absolute stillness. Of course they were still – they were rock, always there – and yet through the mist of winter Toboe saw them swaying rhythmically, beckoning, welcoming the approaching wolves. Their bases looked grounded, but their caps unsteady, as if they were waiting to tumble and bury them. The pup refused to dwell on the illusion.

The magic of the run ended as suddenly, unexpectedly, the wolves stumbled onto a track. It looked like a country road winding its way through the forest -- two dirt lanes that would mark the path of a car's wheels with dead grass between them. Kiba's ears flattened against his skull in displeasure, and Tsume adopted an air of pretend indifference with an underlying growl of irritation. Collen merely acknowledged the sign of humanity with minimum interest, and Hige lowered his nose to the ground and began sniffing.

"Let's just go," mumbled Kiba. "Human stench is not our guide here." Toboe acknowledged him by sniffing the wind, but the sweet aroma of the lunar flower seemed to have faded into a dream. He thought he could sense it, but it might have been merely his expectation and hope that it was still there that fooled his senses. Throughout their journey, the scent came and went; Kiba seemed to be the most adapted at catching it. When Toboe glanced at his alpha, however, he was dismayed to see that that the scent has also eluded him. Disappointment marked his posture.

"The wind has changed," Tsume murmured, "but our destination still lies in the mountains."

"There's a village around here somewhere," Hige added. "I reckon we should go check it out…."

"No," snapped Kiba. Hige looked at him warily, and he sighed. Then, a little softer: "There's really no need. We know where we have to go. Besides, I doubt Quent will be detained for too long just because his pet was a little roughed up." His eyes darkened with resentment. "We can't afford to stop now…"

Collen gazed at him for a minute as Kiba trailed off, then glanced at Toboe. "How are you holding up?" She eyed him tenderly, studying his wound.

"I'm better," he replied meekly. His wound still ached, but it was a distant sort of feeling, as if he was observing someone else's pain and not his own. Collen observed him for a few moments longer but accepted his words. Tsume didn't even glance at Toboe, but stood with one ear turned to the pup and his head slightly cocked to the side. Toboe smiled inwardly at the older wolf's attempt to mask his interest.

The wolves crossed the track and moved off into the woods, though now they were more alert and wary. They knew that there was a settlement somewhere around here, and treaded carefully. Toboe's fur stood on end as he sensed another subtle shift in the wind, and Hige stopped to sniff the air for a minute before they continued.

Around midday, the pack emerged on a small clearing. The mud here seemed to be frozen in a rather disturbed state, deer hoof prints indicating a flurry of activity. A small patch of dark red colour could be seen on one side of the clearing, where a deer had collapsed. From this spot, another track could be seen where its body was dragged off by hunters. An unpleasant potent smell hung in this area; it stunk of the animals' horror and the death of a young buck. Toboe could almost taste the iron in the air over the copper blood stain. It wasn't a particularly unpleasant experience for a wolf, but the underlying scent of hunting dogs (possibly greyhounds – bred and trained for large game) bade Toboe to exercise caution while traversing this forest. If they weren't careful, they could be scented and tracked by the dogs, and ultimately by the humans.

Normally, dogs weren't a threat to wolves – the greater canines exercised dominance over the mutts. When it came to hounds that had humans to protect as well as to back them, however, it would be best to stay hidden. Blue was the perfect example of a dog obsessed with the hunt and with her human.

To the pack's dismay, the hunters' track seemed to lead to the southwest – the direction of the mountains, and the wolves' destination. Hige smartly informed that that's also where he sensed the settlement. By his estimation (that was based on his sense of smell), it wasn't a particularly large village – just a small forest settlement, yet there was a definite stench of dog. It was a few miles down the track.

"We can circle them downwind, so those dogs don't sense us," Collen suggested.

"Chances are, the wind will change," replied Kiba. "But we don't have much of a choice, do we?"

"We could move out of their sensory range," Hige put in.

"And lose hours of sunlight? I don't think so. The lunar scent has moved on, and we need to hurry if we hope to catch up to it." Kiba was quick to shoot down their suggestins. "How many mutts would you estimate?"

"At least a dozen. It's probably a trading village, lugging meat to the city or something. It's certainly teeming with hounds," Hige informed.

Tsume shifted, drawing the others' attention. "They're below us. They won't come after wolves if we move swiftly and at a distance." He seemed so sure of himself, Toboe found himself believing him. Then his mind traveled back to his injury, and he wondered what would happen to him if Tsume was wrong. They would likely go for the weakest first, and he was suddenly apprehensive, though struggling not to show it.

Toboe then sensed eyes on him, and turned to look at Collen. She eyed him for a minute, then turned to the alpha. "And what of the pup?" she enquired. "There are a lot of them, and hounds are very territorial. If Hige is right in his estimation, they're also likely to be confident in their numbers. If we have to run, are you willing to risk Toboe falling behind because of his injury?"

A sort of realization spread itself over Hige's features, and he glanced at the pup. "Toboe?" he ventured, almost guiltily in the face of his forgetfulness.

"He'll be fine," Tsume stated confidently. Toboe glanced at him, surprised by his sure tone. The older wolf carried an aura of stern determination as he eyed the pup. Suddenly, Toboe understood what Tsume was hinting at as a memory resurfaced on his mind – the warm feeling of being safe and protected as he lay across the other wolf's back, being carried out of danger. If they had to run, Tsume was volunteering to carry him again, albeit in a roundabout way that made him sound gruff and annoyed. A sort of warmth settled in Toboe's stomach, and his tail swished in appreciation.

Kiba snickered quietly, giving Tsume a knowing look. "Then it's settled," he said. He took the lead and led the pack in a westerly direction, so the wolves could pass the village by about a mile, currently downwind. They all knew that the wind would possibly change, and some primal instinct told them it was very likely.

The forest was quiet; the birds hushed. The various animal scents gradually receded as the wolves approached the village, though the darkly animalistic smell of greyhounds intensified slightly. All predatory animals had 'dark' scents (if such a thing could ever be described in shades), but the mingling with human stench made this one particularly alarming.

The rhythmic jingling of Toboe's silver bracelets and the steady creak of Hige's leather collar helped break the silence. Their paws were quiet, but their breathing deep and steady; loud in the sleeping forest. The wind swayed the canopies of the arching trees, making the branches creak dismally as they rubbed against each other. The pack was tense, though the higher members of their hierarchy – Kiba and Tsume – tried not to show it. Instead, they focused their energy on their senses – the messages that the wind and earth carried.

"Not much farther now," Hige whispered. Collen shot him a solemn look, and nuzzled Toboe's side supportively. He returned the gesture with appreciation. Her eyes calmed him, placating his rising adrenaline. He knew that they were more likely to be sensed if they were excited. Their excitement was also likely to be interpreted as threatening by the dogs.

Not that wolves wondering onto their territory wouldn't be perceived as threatening either way, Toboe mused. He glanced up, glimpsing the heavens through the intertwining spidery branches of the trees. If only the wind wouldn't change. If only they'd let us pass if it does. If only I wasn't tired, weak and wounded.

Someday. Someday he wouldn't have to worry about being hurt. He wouldn't have to worry about being hunted like some monster; wouldn't have to worry about losing all the time, just as long as he didn't lose sight of his goal now. He just had to live through the Now, and reach Then. Reach over the distance – the village and its dangers, the forest, the plains and hills that followed it, the looming mountains. Reach through the hurt; answer to the calling of the lunar scent that so stirred his blood. Reach Paradise. They would.

Eventually, they came upon a footpath. It curved in a way that was parallel to their intended course, so for ease of wander, they followed the path instead. It was another risk, but it would make their trek easier – the ground here was hard and well trodden.

Surprisingly, it wasn't the wind that presented the wolves' first obstacle. Through the trees on the side, they glimpsed a dark shape. Further observation revealed it to be a young man, standing stock-still in a brown winter coat and hat. In his hand was a long, double-barreled rifle. He was gazing at them, transfixed and evaluating. At his side was a cowering greyhound bitch, her lip curled defensively and her tail between her legs.

The man raised his hand and brushed his knuckles on the underside of his jaw in a gesture of thoughtfulness. His eyes shifted from one canine to another, lingering on the odd bits – Toboe's bracelets and Hige's collar, and Tsume's perfectly X-shaped scar. Toboe briefly wondered what the man was thinking. Did he think that they were runaway dogs, gone wild? The man's eyes then moved to Kiba, his face expressionless. With the characteristic snowy coat of an Arctic wolf and his overall majesty, Kiba could hardly pass for a normal dog. Overall, they probably looked quite threatening.

The man fluidly strapped a long leather leash to the dog's collar, and started dragging her away. She seemed reluctant, constantly looking over her shoulder and curling her lip, flashing her teeth. Her master pointedly ignored her interest and the focus of her attention, strolling briskly into the woods. He was heading toward the village.

Collen gazed after the man wistfully. "Should have killed him," she muttered.

Hige and Toboe gave the she-wolf incredulous looks, but Kiba and Tsume seemed wary. "If he goes and tells his friends that there's a pack of wolves about, there'll be trouble," Tsume muttered.

Hige adopted an understanding expression, turning to gaze after the man thoughtfully. "Should have maimed him, then."

Toboe gave Hige a patronizing glance, but quickly looked away as the older wolf cocked his head at the pup. Collen just shook her head at them and moved on, following Kiba. The alpha has quickened their pace, his instincts forming a rightful distrust of humans. They adopted a quick, trotting gait, aiming to cover a reasonable distance quickly, trying to get onto safer territory.

It was not to be.

The sun was steadily approaching the horizon, indicating late afternoon. An ominous, iron-colored cloud was drifting over the wide expense of the sky, riding the high winds. The usual winter silence that drifted over the forest was broken by a flurry of action – wolves leaping over a fallen log, struggling to find their footing on the slippery ground. They were focused, their sharp eyes observing all the possible ways that they could go without getting caught in the grasp of winding branches. Their mouths were open and panting, their breaths misting before them. Besides being a cold, uncomfortable run, it was also a failing escape.

One thing that separated wolves from other animals, and grouped them closer to humanity, was their ability to reason. While a deer may have run blindly and in any direction to escape its pursuers, the wolves wove a clever trail. They found such obstacles that would make it difficult for human runners to follow, leaping over wet, slippery crevices and rocks.

Human hunters, with their sharp aims and loaded rifles, weren't the greatest threat right now. On the wolves' trail was also a pack of swift greyhounds, sure-footed and able. They were raised to run in these conditions. They were racing to please their human counterparts, to add a beautiful pelt to their masters' collections. It was like hunting for the best buck – the most agile, big and beautiful. While a buck was valued by its size and the majesty of its antlers, a wolf would be valued by its pelt. It would be an unusual kill, and one that would be sure to earn some good money on the market. Easy to imagine – offering the pelt of a supposedly extinct animal.

Kiba led his pack at a swift, speedy gait. The wolves took full advantage of their superior strength and agility, their instinct guiding their paws so they didn't step on sharp rocks or other dangerous objects. They were driven by adrenaline, running even though something in their blood cried for them to turn and fight; to establish their dominance against the hounds – about ten of them. Toboe knew it wasn't worth it.

He was gasping, not only because of the icy prickling in his lungs but also because his side felt tight, as if the muscle seized up. It refused to work, succumbing to the wound that Quent has left him with, but Toboe urged his body forward desperately. His gait was thrown, and he was now running with an awkward limp, tilting sideways to try and relieve the pressure on the locked muscle.

An enraged, desperate whine sounded from Toboe's side. Collen was running next to him, her lip curled upwards, blowing air through her teeth as her eyes focused on the struggling pup. He knew she wasn't mad at him, but rather at the situation they were now presented with. Hige glanced back quickly, his eyes widening as he caught sight of Toboe. "Stop!" he cried frantically. "Guys, stop!"

Kiba and Tsume turned and skid to a halt just as Toboe crashed onto the ground, splaying snow and ice as he slid on the earth. He hastily braced his front paws and clenched his jaws, struggling to pull himself up. Collen quickly positioned herself over him, keeping him down. "Relax," she whispered as she turned to look in the direction they have come. She lowered her head, her sharp eyes observing the woods as the sounds of the hounds steadily approached them, echoing throughout the forest.

"Don't relax, don't relax!" Hige rambled frantically. "Let him up, we need to move!" His pupils were unnaturally big, shifting from the forest to Collen to Kiba. "Tell her, Kiba!"

Tsume quickly stepped in, and Kiba looked at him instead. "I'll take care of them," said the gray wolf. "You get moving." He sounded calm and determined, yet there was an undertone of urgency in his voice.

Hige looked uncertain, not liking the idea of separation. As the sounds continued to get louder and louder, however, he conceded. "Fine. Come on, twerp," he said to the pup.

"No," Tsume said sharply. "You're coming with me. You'll be the distraction."

Hige gaped for a moment, his ears flattened in displeasure. He then lowered his head and looked at Kiba with a moan of protest. The alpha, however, merely cocked his head in a contemplating manner and eyed Tsume, who gazed back steadily.

"Sorry, Hige," Kiba finally said. He still watched the gray wolf, his eyes relaying a clear message – I trust you not to get killed. He then nodded to Collen and Toboe. "Come." Collen already had Toboe situated on her back, his head hanging over her shoulder by the side of her neck. His eyes were half-closed and unfocused. He looked limp and unresponsive.

As the three wolves progressed farther into the forest, Tsume started walking around the clearing, rubbing against stumps and branches. Hige, catching on, rolled on the ground with a frantic, fearful agility. After a few moments, he rose with a huff and the two quickly leaped into a run, moving at about a forty-five degree angle to the path that their packmates chose. The greyhounds were meant to catch the dominating scent, following Tsume and Hige instead of the slowy-progressing alpha, she-wolf and pup.

The sun was setting, darkness spilling over the sky as if some god overturned their jar of night in the east. The sky was still somewhat light and colorful in the west, where the rays lingered. The incessant wind seemed determined to beat the forest to the ground, and it was anything but a quiet night.

Sharp whistles pierced the normal sounds of the forest, sounding somewhere far in the distance. It was not a pleasant sound to canine ears, yet to Kiba and his pack it was the sound of salvation. They were hunters' whistles, calling back the hounds from what he hoped was an unsuccessful kill.

Toboe was slung over the alpha's back, Collen's strength having been depleted some forty minutes ago. They trudged on unsteady paws through the foliage, their bodies quivering with pent-up apprehension and exhaustion. When the hunt had concluded, Kiba had dropped onto his stomach; head resting on his paws, ears drooped and eyes half-closed, welcoming sleep. Collen merely paused to pull the unconscious pup off of her alpha's back, plopping down at his side and lending him her body heat.

Tsume and Hige had yet to rejoin them, and apprehension had pooled in their stomachs as they waited. The worst has passed, yet now they feared the aftermath. It was time to rest, but as long as they were separated rest would not come easily.

About ten minutes later, the distinct stench of dog stirred Kiba's senses. His eyes opened and he shifted slightly, turning his head to look to the side and into the shadowy forest. He saw a dark shape at the edge of his senses, its eyes glowing eerily in the filtered moonlight. It was a greyhound – its light, delicate structure and long limbs casting lanky shadows on the frigid earth. It watched them calmly, unwilling to approach. Kiba gazed back steadily and curled his lip in a threatening manner, eyes narrowing. The dog backed off, turned and loped into the shadows.

Something raw and feral shifted in Kiba's chest, urging him to run after the mutt and chase it from his pack. He knew, however, that the dog was probably alone – the others had responded to the whistles and abandoned the chase. It was not much of a threat. Nevertheless, the idea of being watched by that dog – tracked by sight, sound and smell – was very unappealing. I'm waiting, he thought, gazing after the dog. I'm waiting, you mutt, so come and get me. His thoughts were so powerful, he attempted to project them to the dog as he watched the shadows in which it disappeared. His whole being was filled with malice; he wanted to hurt it as some kind of roundabout revenge for tearing his pack in two. Come and get Toboe – I'd like to see you try.

Then, Kiba remembered the man – the one that they saw in the forest before this hunt started; the one that rubbed his knuckles on the underside of his chin in thought. This greyhound was his bitch – he recognized the scent.

Should have killed him.