Everyone has their own vision of paradise

Disclaimer: I do not own Wolf's Rain

Kiba
I've been searching for a long time now. Weeks, months, years…I don't even know anymore. Time has been blurred together in a clouded mess. All I can do is follow my paws. My paws…bloody and beaten, wounded, prints deep in the snow. Follow my paws…to places untouched by humanity. Beautiful forests where nature reins supreme and the sweet smell of flowers and pine needles overpower the stench of death and pain. They weren't it though; they were not what I was searching for. It just never felt right. So I continue to walk, unknowingly, towards the future, leaving the past for my tail to bother with. I continue to follow my tired, aching paws. Follow my paws…to places no one should ever have to see. Tears of pain and stale, crusty blood cover the streets. Where the dead litter the street like a discarded hot dog wrapper. Where the cries and wails of the beaten and abused echo down the streets. It is the soundtrack to their life. I know that this is far from what I search for. So where do I go? What do I do, except to keep walking? Keep walking until I make it to paradise.

It is a strange, dying world these days, where the beauty and majesty of nature is replaced by the stench of industry and the nobles. The damn nobles. They are destroying the world. They are the harbingers of the apocalypse. They are the deliverers of pain and death. Yet, they are also the ones that will give we wolves our paradise. So, in a sense, I should be grateful. Yet how can I be, when everywhere I go, I see wolves struggling to survive; degrading themselves to working with humans to get by. However, you have to survive, and I suppose you have to do what you have to do to live. Whatever you do, you have to live. You have to keep fighting. If you just give up, how will you ever make it to your paradise?

Toboe
She's dead. She's dead and its all my fault. I killed her. I'm a murderer. She told me to stop but I never did. She was so kind to me, so loving. Took care of me ever since I was a pup. That was a long time ago though. I remember it. I was shivering in the cold, cold snow and she found me. She found me and hugged me close to keep me warm. She covered me in a blanket and laid me down by the fire. She was my mother. In a sense, anyway. I should say my granny. That's what she reminded me of; a kindly old grandmother. I remember, a long time ago, when I was a bit older, her children came over; they brought their children too. They played with me all day, the little ones. It was a lot of fun; it was the happiest I've ever been. It was my paradise…the paradise that was snatched away from me. What did I do to deserve this cursed life now? I grew up. I got too big for Granny to handle. That's how I killed her, but it was an accident, I swear. I'm not a killer, and I refuse to kill again.

All I can do now is run away. Run far, far away where they'll never find me. If they find me, they'll kill me, I just know it. How can I tell them that it wasn't my fault? It wasn't, was it? I don't even know. I keep running all of these silly excuses through my mind. It doesn't matter now, though. Nothing about the past matters. It's all about the future now. The time has come for me to let go. Let go…it's harder than it sounds. My paradise…my paradise…it's gone now. I have to find another one. A better one; one where Granny is waiting for me. For now, all I can do is keep my wits about me and keep my head up high.

Hige
I like to think I'm smart. I know how to survive, and I know how to keep others alive. At least, that's what I like to believe. I've lived in this stupid city for months now; I know how things work. There aren't many wolves out here, sure, one or two come through every month or so, but for the most part, it's just me. I can smell a wolf miles away, but most come to me. They ask me for advice, how to get to the next city. A few of the fools head off towards their vision of paradise. That's not for me though. I'd rather stay here and relax; I make my living stealing food from the local venders. That's me. They can never catch me though. I run too fast for their stupid legs to keep up with. I enjoy it. Letting them think that they caught me, and then dashing off again.

I live for fun. I like to think that I'm fun; that I'm a funny guy. I remember before I got to this city…when I was a bit younger…I gnawed at this stupid collar around my neck, trying desperately to get it off. It part of a past that didn't exist…a past I don't quite remember, and am in no rush to recollect. The past, the present, the future…it's all the same. None of them really matter in the long run. I know I don't have much longer. None of us do. This world is approaching the end. I sense the Red Moon…the soon coming demise of this world. I can smell it in the air. So what does it matter. I live for today. Not tomorrow. Not yesterday. Sometimes I wonder if life is worth it. Then I look into the sky and smell the air…smell the faint smell of lunar flowers, somewhere, deep within the bowels of this city, and know that it's all worth it.

Tsume
They ask me if it is worth it, living life without bonds…without loyalties. They tell me I'm a treacherous traitor, that I deserve the scar on my chest. They tell me that I've earned this dishonorable life, leading a pack of vagabond humans, stealing to live, or just for fun. They tell me I'm a live wire, that I have a short fuse and I need to lighten up. I don't care what they say. I do what is necessary to survive. It's the law of nature. Survival of the fittest; adapt to live. That's what I do. I adapt to my surroundings and take full advantage of any opportunity that passes my way. That's how I live, and that's how I'll die

That's the end of part one. I hope you enjoyed.