"You ugly rodent, get back here!" barked the canine.
But Velvet was too quick; down into the gutters she went, into the cold darkness.
The wolf got down on all fours and sniffed the gutters greedily. "You better not come back, you little thief!" growled the dog, who then went back to maintaining his fruit cart.
The chinchilla let out the breath she was holding and bounced down the sewer line, avoiding the stinking puddles of filth. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the artifical night time. This was her home, her lifestyle, her prison.
Oscar, a large raccoon, greeted Velvet with a nod when she arrived to a tunnel lit with yellow christmas-tree lights. These lights were strung up to mimick a starry night sky- something the animals in the gutters had not seen in a very long time since the construction of Zootopia.
"Good morning, Velvet," said a huge-eyed bushbaby. Her name was Wendy. "Oh, lookie there! You found an apple."
"Mhm!" Velvet replied, her mouth full.
A large cluster of black, white, grey, and blue rats pushed past Velvet, scurrying quickly on tiny paws, their tails pointed up.
"Goodness, they're in a hurry!" said Wendy.
"It's trash day," said a bat from the ceiling. "The garbage trucks had heavy louds this week; the dump will be full of little goodies."
Velvet cringed. She preferred her food fresh. But understood that times were tough... Obtaining food from above never got any easier. Being seen by a Zootopian, you would instantly become a victim of verbal and sometimes physical abuse. To them, the nocturnal creatures were disgusting; the lowest of the low. Velvet never understood why.
"It's a curse," Oscar the raccoon once told her. "We are born with special eyes to see with, and their envy has turned to loath."
"That must be true..." Velvet had answered. But now, with the sweet, fresh apple juices trickling down her throat, the chinchilla wished that things were different; that they, too, could eat and walk freely with the other mammals.
"Are you going to attend tonight's meeting?" the bushbaby asked.
Velvet set down her apple and nodded. "Is it true that Benny will be there?"
"Oh, that old owl? Haha!" Wendy shook her head, smiling. "Yes, unfortunately. Poor fool."
While rumors about owls being intelligent were true for most, Benny was indeed a fool. He never wore clothing, like the rest of the animals, and was obsessed with collecting canned pastas, such as Spaghetti O's. He could talk your head off about the texture of cooked pasta being almost like swallowing worms- something the owl only did when he was still a chick. During meetings he was famous for interupting by flying from empty chair to empty chair, saying large birds such as himself needed the exercise.
Velvet smiled, remembering the foolish bird. He was the only one of his species; for that reason, Velvet pitied him. "Maybe I'll share some of my apple with him." she said.
"With him?" snapped the bushbaby. "I thought you were going to share it with me. Hmph!" Wendy turned and scampered off without another word.
"So sensitive..." sighed Velvet. She picked back up the apple between her teeth and continued down the lighted tunnel.
Already back from the land fill, the pack of rats hurried by, in their paws half-eaten food, toys, glass objects, clothes, and other odds and ends. "You really missed out on a good haul," said one spotted rat to Velvet.
Velvet smiled politely. "Maybe I'll go next time." Velvet turned down a slender tunnel, passing several holes with cloth doors. Her place of dwelling was at the very end of the tunnel, her door a thick piece of blue cloth. The chinchilla hopped into her house and put her apple into the pantry. After Wendy's reaction towards Benny, Velvet wasn't sure if she wanted to give the apple to the owl anymore. No; her mind was made up. She was going to save it all for herself.
She took a large, crunchy bite out of the side of the apple and munched away. She wasn't raised to be kind to others, so why should she start now? She was hungry, and she wasn't going to starve for the sake of kindness. After she was finished eating, Velvet laid down on her bed (a pile of cotton cluff) and rested.
With eyes closed, Velvet counted how many seconds it took for her to get from the fruit cart to the gutter. 5 seconds? 10? More like 7. 7 and a half. She was getting faster. The thought of that made her smile. Maybe one day she'd get to out-run a cheetah.
An aardvark pushed his long nose into Velvet's room, pushing the blue cloth aside. "Miss Velvet?" he inquired, blinking.
Velvet rolled over and looked at him. "Oh, is the meeting starting?"
The animal shook his head. "The meeting has been cancelled. Benny has been found dead in his dwelling."
It was unnecessary for Velvet to enter the crime scene; all of the creatures of the night stood in clusters down tunnels, staring at their leader, a large badger, who stod in the center. Questions circled the badger like a swarm of gnats.
"I know you all have many inquiries regarding our friend, the owl," said the badger in a loud voice. "I have seen him for myself, and I know what caused his inflictions."
"Then tell us!" yelled a hedgehog, standing with her children.
"It was..." the badger paused, the news grieving even him. "...from Zootopia."
"Again and again," growled a wombat, digging his claws into the metal piping.
"What is causes these attacks to become more frequent?" asked a bat.
"Can we still go outside?" asked a mole.
"When I first established this domain," said the badger loudly, silencing the questioning critters. "We had a meeting regarding the upper world. We discussed the risks nocturnal animals would take when going up there. Some of you animals are too young to know this..."
"Where there any solutions to this problem?" Velvet asked, raising up her paw.
The badger looked straight at Velvet and nodded. "Yes. We decided that, if our comrades lives were in danger, and we could not maintain a healthy lifestyle for our community... Then we should go to war."