Beams of light breaking up the sky… they look like rain…

Wolf's rain.

We are worn from battle with the noble.

But we have the flower maiden. Cheza. And we have our leader. Our alpha. Kiba. Panting and fatigued, we climb up this rock face.

He has led us to this place, been leading us for the longest time. He has our faith. He has our trust.

Now is the moment of truth.

Kiba raises his scarred muzzle to the sky. Blind like Cheza now, his eyes slashed shut, he leads us for the last time in a feral chorus. His voice splits the sky open like thunder.

Instinctively we follow, remembering our brothers, our kith, our kin. So much has been given for this place, so many battles fought.

We are opening Paradise for them.

No longer will the hunter slaughter fellow wolves, parents of cubs, now left behind to be orphans. No longer will we fight bloody duels to the death for this place. Because we have found it, and we are opening it for them.

And I raise my voice with Kiba, joining him to sing my heart out. I hear my blood rushing in my ears.

I was the one who pretended to doubt him. Pretended to ridicule him. I stuck along because I knew in the end we would make it here.

Exhausted, the white wolf falls to the ground. My heart pounds in my ears, as I see the blood rushing out of his body. So much blood. Wolf's blood.

Kiba.

And I know that he has made a sacrifice, a sacrifice greater than ours but for all of us. He will never walk beyond the gates we have opened.

Instead, he has left us behind to carry out his dream. His long journey is over.

And so is ours. We have found Paradise.

I lift my voice to the sky again, hoping Kiba will hear. Hoping he has found his own Paradise.

I hear you, brother.