DISCLAIMER: I don't own Wolf's Rain.
:TOWARDS A LOST PARADISE:
a Wolf's Rain fanfiction
by Comtessa
:CHAPTER 3:
:Paths long trudged:
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
"Please, don't wake mefrom this dream.
It's really everything it seemed.
I'm so free….
No black and white in the blue…."
"Blue" from Cowboy Bebop.
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
In the stillness of the night, a white wolf dreamt.
:At first there was nothing.
But then, all at once, there was light. And wind.
He basked in the freshness of the air and the softness of the grass that spread beneath his lying form.
His eyes were closed but he knew with unquestionable certainty that the sun was warmly shining high up, in a turquoise colored sky.
He sniffed the air lightly, not even bothering to open his eyes. Winter hung on late up here in the mountains, but there was definitely a taste of spring on the wind.
Did he know this place?
He sniffed again. Perhaps. It felt familiar….yet not quite so. It didn't matter, though, for it was oddly comforting for him…. And it vaguely resembled home.
The minutes passed, drawling away interminably in the cradled embrace of the moving time. Softly, tersely, as if they were naught but illusions made of air. And the wolf let them tick by, his form unmoving. Unfazed.
Kibas ears perked up. In the distance he could hear the flowing movement of a river descending from the snowy tops of some impressive mountain. Thawing rivers that traveled down with the coming of spring's heat; that rushed down the mountain's slopes, fastly, desiring to escape it.
Kiba mentally smiled. Yes. Clear, cold water…. What he'd give for a taste of it….
But the white wolf didn't stir nor dare move, not even to blink open his eyes to let them roam around freely through such pleasant environment as he knew was out there. No, he didn't dare even make a sound and disrupt it. Lest he broke the spell. Lest he realized it might not be true.
Still, something insistently tugged at the strings of his consciousness…. like a threat. Or a warning.
Even though it began as a soft wisp, Kibas clever nose immediately perceived it. A change in the air, a shifting in the scene displayed behind his closed eyelids.
A stench.
He scowled. +Humans+ his mind snarled.
As if the wolf's recognition was all it took for it to gain power, their smell grew stronger, seeming to come ominously closer to his lying form. Panicked, he stirred. A stupid mistake on his part.
Like ripples in the water, the image of green fields began to move, to blur.
To erase.
"No, don't!" he yelled, when the sounds of crystal rivers and fresh winds started to lankily recede; all the pleasant sensations disappearing in a colorful whirlwind.
He knew he had been dreaming, had known it all along….
A silly dream of forgotten landscapes and colors that the real world seemed to lack in every aspect nowadays.
A dream. Just some mundane recollection of his old memories where sense and logic melted into nothing but this moment, one instant after another.
Something from which Kiba didn't desire to wake up.
Everything felt so good there! No pain, no hunger nor bloody paradises…. Just the comfort and warmth of a place that in so many ways resembled home. Here he was stripped off his understanding; he became a creature without regret or dark memories. Here contentment was forgetting.
"Please, I don't want to wake up….not yet, please!" desperation laced his deep voice, as he unconsciously nuzzled whatever it was that was tightly pressed against him, in an attempt to regain some semblance of that welcomy warmth that the thing was providing.
Kiba groaned softly. Inside his head the dream was almost gone. No longer could he feel the grass or the Western breeze. The smell of humans had overpowered all his senses and he was left cold, and alone:
The thing pressed against him stirred and whined hushedly, as if sensing his distress.
A pause. Something metaphorically "clicked" in his head.
What the--!
He immediately stiffened and his eyes flew open instinctively. For a moment his disorientation terrified him- where was he?- but then things spun into focus and he remembered what had happened and how he'd gotten there.
Blinking a few times to clear the fog of sleep, the street up ahead became clear. No one was around now and it had stopped raining. The sky, though, remained pressingly dark and covered in fake grayish-green clouds that didn't drift. Just remained forebodingly still.
He looked down to his middle section and found a brown form curled and resting there. Something lying next to him!
It was a fluffy ball, the color of old bronze, cuddled against Kibas stomach and fast asleep, unaware that the white wolf had already woken. And was NOT pleased.
A warning flashed in Kibas head and his heart skipped a beat.
As a wolf he rarely accepted close proximity, and as a wild wolf he thoroughly HATED cuddling.
He let a deep growl escape his throat and in a flash, leapt away from the intruder.
Screaming muscles fell into action as he spread his legs beneath him and lowered in a battle stance.
Stabs of pain, head swimming….+
A yip and a whine came from the other animal as the sudden movement jerked it awake, and he ungracefully rolled and fell in a dirty puddle in the street.
It skittered to a stop and, fastly crawling, moved away from Kiba.
Meanwhile, the white wolf, hackles raised, sniffed the intruder. The thing was practically oozing human stench and pollution, yet still, beneath it all, something else was perceivable….the scent of green and white, of open fields and—
Flashes, rushing images came unbidden to his mind. Dark nights in haunting woods, the hazy vegetation of an eerily silent forest.; a round silvery moon hanging up from a black-satined sky and rapidly lost as he moved fastly through tall, imposing pine trees.
He was being followed. Rapid steps echoed in his keen ears as they pounded against the snow-covered floor right behind him.
He rushed on ahead of his pursuers, leading them, guiding them, running stealthily forward amidst his fellow kin….
Always following him. Always behind him. His ghost pack.
He growled, teeth bared for all to see.
This thing…. smells of wilderness+
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
Tooboe had been blissfully submerged in a nightmare-free sleep when he'd been brusquely shoved away by the white wolf.
He hadn't intended to fall asleep, though, it was just that….
It had started raining so hard that he'd rushed to find shelter and had stumbled upon this hidden crevice between two buildings. Upon closer inspection he had discovered it to be already taken.
It's occupant turned out to be a wolf.
He'd been so thrilled with this little discovery – his obaa-san had once said that wolves had extinguished many years ago- that, without thinking it twice, he had assumed his own wolven form and had fastly scampered inside.
The other had not stirred, so Tooboe had shyly taken the liberty of close inspection. It was big, almost twice his size but it was also way too thin to be healthy. +He looks more like a sack of bones than anything else+. It lay sprawled on it's side, his four long legs spread in front of him as if he had collapsed instead of fallen asleep. His once evidently clear white fur was now moted and blotched with dirt and dry blood. Such a pitiful sight, Tooboe thought, and couldn't help feeling his own heart clench in sadness.
Tooboe then, sniffed timidly at the other's neck wounds. +Mmm. They don't seem serious. I guess most of the blood doesn't belong to him but to whomever he fought with recently.+ Taking one very cautious step forward, he inhaled the coppery scent that wafted from the white wolf's hind leg. +Wait….+ "Ugh." He backtracked suddenly, shaking his head from side to side to clear it from the insidious stench. "It's—It's infected! Yuck, it's rotting away.…" Tooboe hadn't realized he'd been talking aloud, his eyes fixed on the other's dead-still form. +Why didn't he heal it? Did he not realize it's state? No, impossible! Even I can smell it's decay.+ He stared at the wolf's face, peacefully oblivious to the scrutiny he was been subject to. +Then….why+ "I should help him…."
Impulsively, he had been about to approach it, but stopped. If the other was truly so seriously injured then getting near him would be most dangerous. He was, after all, a wolf too, and knew perfectly well that when injured one felt at the weakest point. His obaa-san had told him how powerful and proud wolf were…. Tooboe had no desire to risk his life by suddenly awakening the other.
So instead he waited, keeping a silent and worried vigil at his side.
Hours passed, the rain stopped and eventually his promise to keep away fled as the chilly night rolled on and the cold became once more too intense to bear. Patience gave way to exhaustion, and he fell asleep.
And now here he was, half dazed from sleep and cowering in fear from a crazed, feverish, nearly-famished wolf that had intent murder written in bold letters in his eyes. +Or perhaps it says prey, too+ the thought echoed on his mind like the thunk of a stone.
His first and most pressing impulse was to run. Run for cover, run for his life, run to survive, or merely run for the intense panic he was currently feeling...he wasn't sure of. Only that his terrified instinct was clawing and yelling in his head to turn around and flee as fast as he could, or he would become the wolven equivalent of a hotdog for the other. Yet his feet refused to stop shaking and properly work, instead choosing to nail themselves to the ground for the moment and let the poor boy face this problem unaided.
Tooboe could almost tangibly feel the other's anger in the tenseness of the air. Such was the white wolf's power, that the boy was sure he could see a flaring yellowy aura surrounding him, freezing with it's unleashed greatness everything that came into contact with it.
Tooboe whined, backing away in a painfully slow motion, head downcast and heart pounding in his ears. +Don't look at him in the eyes! Don't look. Don't look. Also, ever run from an angered creature+ he thought. His mind was shivering but distant, naming the things he might need to do, calmly and rationally, while the rest of him tensed over and over like the string of a finely tuned violin as he prepared to flee. Kiba was still standing, but slowly stepped forward, slunkily approaching the desperate pup.
"Runt," he said in low tones through his never wavering growl "What are you doing here?"
Tooboe gave a squeaky yip in surprise when the other addressed him. He blushed slightly, and rushed apologetically. "A-ano…. G-gomen nasai! I didn't mean to wake you…. It's just that it started raining…. I was looking for shelter…. I had never seen a wolf before, and you w-were hurt…. I…eh…. I thought I might help—you. I-I was….worried…. I, eh…." Tooboe stuttered, eyes locked with a vengeance in the muddy cobbles of the ground. He knew he was ranting, barely making sense at all, but he was too scared and trembling non-stop to be able to put mental coherence to good use.
A pause. And the awkward silence bore down again.
"Hn" finally said the other and, just like that, the growl stopped, the aura disappeared and the normal flow of time was restored. Tooboe gasped at the feeling of the spatial tension so suddenly vanishing and raised his eyes…. only to see the retreating figure of the white creature, carefully turn around in his three good legs, and away.
It was something quite unexpected for the young wolf, to say the least. Legs still shaking, heart still pumping too fast for his comfort, Tooboe dumbly stared at his retreating back, watching the half-dead silvery creature move limply. He was struck with the distinct feeling that something was required of him. That something needed to be done.
He blinked several times, trying to come to terms with this sudden change in his mind. But before he could put careful order to this new sensation, his mouth automatically opened, and sound escaped:
"W-wait!" he yelled, frantically moving forward to catch up to the other. He wasn't sure why, but the sudden righteous desire to help the white creature boosted his groveling courage to new heights. "You're hurt—I can help you!" He panted. Finally reaching the other, and rounding him, Tooboe stood at his front.
Thus, Kiba found himself the receptor of the widest, most pleading gaze he had ever seen anyone bestow him. The boy's eyes, a feature from the other that, up until now, Kiba hadn't paid attention to, were of a rich shade of light brown; like warm honey. And they reflected such care, such need to help, that Kiba absently wondered if he wasn't being mistaken with someone else.
"Help me?" Kiba snorted. +Only a pet can have such silly notions up his head+ Then, derisively, with eyes narrowing in disgust he continued out loud. "What can a lap dog like you do for me?"
Tooboe gasped, unconsciously giving a step back.
For a long moment, in which Tooboe had ample time to reconsider his rushed actions, neither of them spoke. +He bears such hatred in those words….why+ "D-demo….Your wound is infected, and you need rest! You're p-probably hungry. If you want, I can—"
"Shut up!" the white wolf suddenly snarled out. He met the small wolf's eyes and stared at him coldly for a moment. "Tsk. Get out of here, runt. I don't need anything from you."
Limping, Kiba started forward, passing next to Tooboes side….and away. Hunched figure tense from the pain, steps slightly faltering and white tail softly swishing with the movement, the first and only other wolf Tooboe had ever seen in the entirety of his life, disappeared round a corner.
The coppery-colored wolf stood dumbfounded, staring. An alien sense of deja vù hit him as he watched, for the second time in less than five minutes, the other disappear, swallowed by the heavy night that surrounded them. In the span of only a few hours, something major and indescribable had happened around him. In this dark, bubble-like city he had thought he was the only one that didn't fit, didn't belong. Now, he'd found another that had no home to go back to.
And in the depths of his heart he knew they'd cross paths again.
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
"Everything's clearer now.
Life is just a dream, you know
That's never ending
I'm ascending…."
"Blue" from Cowboy Bebop.
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
A/N: Oy, Kiba looks more like Tsume with each passing chapter, ne? Oh, well, can't be helped. It's just the way I see his character, that's all. Anyway, thank you very much for taking time reading my story and for your reviews and support (they're always a help when inspiration refuses to cooperate) and see you around.
Keep on reviewing, please! )
C.o.m.t.e.s.s.a
"The surge, that night/left me the customary shreds and odd ends/some hated friends to chat with/music for dreams/and the smoking of bitter ashes."
J.L.B.