A Song for the Moon

Summary: Every wolf has it's own song, it's own story, that shows up in its howl. This is true for the Pack as well.

The howl a wolf's song to the moon is special – it's unique for every wolf, and each one carries a story. Every tune, every note, every melody, every voice, is a memento from its owner that offers up their essence. It is a gift, a mark that gives the whole world a brief glimpse of their lives. Some howls are joyous and loud, reverberating with happiness and delight; others are sorrowful and haunting tones, weaves together by pain and grief. Every song is different, every song has a story, and every wolf has one.

Toboe's howl is the loudest – it is a thick and beautiful sound, a melody that grips the air with such a tender kindness that it overpowers anything else. It is strung together like the words of a song, the tune flying through the night air with such command that it simply belongs there, like Toboe himself is singing a love song to the world. Not only that, but it personifies its owner, delivering an unquestionable hint of delight, with its lighthearted flow and upbeat sequences. Yet, there's a dark undertone – one that no one notices the first time around because of the wonderful rhythm and distinct essence of bliss. However, after you get past the overtone of happiness, you can hear the pain. It's almost like watching a story unfold into the air – the happiness of the song doesn't belong to its owner, it belongs to what he wants for all those he feels he's failed. You can hear the last breath of the old woman that he loved, you can hear the shriek of the hawk that died within his jaws, you can hear the terror from the little girl he frightened – and it's so painful, that sound. A beautifully miserable song of heartache that is hidden by a harmony of love and kindness. Whatever hurt that exists, whatever wounds that leak into his heart, and out through his music, are hidden by his humanity and kindheartedness. Truthfully, there is no better song for Toboe to sing.

Hige's song is slow and deep, as relaxed and carefree as the ocean. It's a peaceful howl, one that interrupts the silence only so the world may stop, if only for a moment. Just like the ocean waves, it's a soothing and gentle tune, one that washes over the night sky like a blanket and harmonizes with every other song that's being sung – it's so versatile in its nature that the howl doesn't sound forced no matter who else it shares the stage with. The sound catches Hige's personality, happy-go-lucky and fairly easy going, personalizing his go-with-the-flow spirit into each note. But, with the likeness of the ocean, there's a silent storm brewing just under the serene sound, an unnoticeable strain that is always ready to burst at any moment. It sounds like fear and chaos that is not fully understood, a monster lurking somewhere beneath the waves. It rips up occasionally, a dowsing of his true pain being exposed – but before anyone can catch the variation in his refrain, he reclaims it. He follows the current, and so does his song – through the good and the bad; Hige sings on a single breath until he loses all of his air and his song dies. His howl is the current of the ocean, thrashing, calm, and free. His song is his hopes and dreams, his fear and regret, his blithe nature, and everything that makes him himself. He sings until the waves retreat and all that's left is him – what other song could he sing?

Tsume's howl is bottomless and long, holding a low growl that reverberates with each note. It's an angry sound, molded by years of betrayal. The scowl that hides within it can be heard, shaped and perfected by isolation and resentment .It's almost vicious in nature with the way it lashes into the night without concern, the way it rushes into the night sky with a wild and reckless attitude. The nature of it is so brash that it can sometimes be the most noticeable even if it is not the loudest. It's so profound that it reaches the ears of every wolf, no matter how low Tsume howls; it's a sound that doesn't care, a melody that is heated and rash – more like a snarl than a song. Yet, the longer it goes, the softer it becomes. Softer and softer, until the roar becomes dull and all that stands left to be heard is a harsh but lonely rhythm. It's not an anyway delicate, but something about it demands company – the way it speaks of betrayal and isolation, the way it sticks out with such striking contrast to its former rage. The anger gives way to something almost like compassion, something that's nearly kindness. When it reaches that point, it mandates company, and allows the rest of the pack to join in. Then it fades into the background, the loneliness undetectable alongside the other howls. Tsume's howl paints the picture of years amongst humans, sounding like a bustling city – it sounds like traffic jams and riled cops, like angry shouts and broken thieves; but it's also animated, teeming with life and stolen moments of joy. It's a song that has been perfected into all that Tsume is, and all that he has become.

Kiba's melody is piercing, a flare in the night. A string of single, drawn out, cutting howls that rip through the air with such command that even Toboe's howl seems quieter. The ache of longing and desire strings its way through every howl. It intertwines itself with the determination and pride that shines through Kiba's lingering hymns. His mantra of persistence evades the open air with such quiet command that it's hard to notice it taking over. The way it hangs in the air with a lasting impact, the way it grasps feelings that Kiba could never express through words, the way it dances to the moon like it knows the way to Paradise…it's hauntingly beautiful. It darts through the breeze, like a shooting star, one right after the other. He joins his fellow Pack and leads it even through his song, starting an orchestra that strings together a sound of hurt, confusion, and loneliness , but also of kindness, love, and loyalty. His extended cry leads the way, sewing them all together into a wonderful, enchanting song that finds its home under the moon. It's a binding melody that catches their pack into a single song that is so complex and deep that not even they fully understand it.

It's a song that speaks of Toboe's pains of loss and abandonment, a testament to Hige's confusion and uncertainty, a melody that speaks of Tsume's anger and loneliness, and a tribute to Kiba's demand for purpose. It's a hymn that reflects Toboe's gentle heart, his endless forgiveness and faith; a mirror that shows Hige's understanding and appreciative nature; a song of Tsume's hidden sympathy, and a reserve for Kiba's concealed love for his Pack. It is a song for the moon.