Panting, Trent Whitepaw paused to catch his breath. The normally diurnal snowshoe hare was out much later than he'd prefer to be. He'd been running through Tundra Town for what had felt like hours and still hadn't seen any sign of anyone who could help him. The bag over his shoulder felt heavier by the second, but he knew that he couldn't just drop it. The contents were his ticket out of this mess, out of this damned city. His brother had been right, Zootopia was going to be the death of their family.
A pair of headlights illuminating Trent broke him free of his thoughts. He turned to run off, but before he could a loud bang ripped through the chilly night air. A gloved paw was sticking out of the driver's side window, clutching a now smoking revolver. Trent dropped to the ground, his crimson blood staining the snow. As his mind began to fog, he could hear a voice shouting.
"You idiot!" A female voice, unfamiliar, "Why'd you kill him in the snow? No, don't get out of the car! Someone's going to have called the cops, we can't leave tracks. Get us out of here!" There was a loud squeal as the car drove past Trent's body, the few feet of snow covered ground being all that prevented them from retrieving his body. Trent smiled, at least one thing went his way. He closed his eyes, and heard no more.
