Runaway in the Rain

by Saffron Panther

In the past, a little fox runs away from home, determined never to scare his mother, ever again. And in the present, a fox and a rabbit try to help a poor kit lost in the rain. And memories return, whether they're wanted or not.

His left foot hesitates over the threshold, until he remembers her teary eyes and her paws slowly covering her face. With a deep breath, he crosses over.

But he still pauses. Behind him, he feels like she's watching. But that's not true. She's fast asleep. She's asleep in her room, with the door closed. She doesn't have to see him go. It's better she doesn't. Not after that night. Her face…no, he can't cry. He has to be strong. He has to go. He can't hurt her, ever again.

The little fox inspects both ends of the street. Aside from the pangolin sleeping at the bus stop, the sidewalks are completely deserted. He sighs and rechecks his patchwork backpack. Two changes of clothes, a secured baggie of blueberry-flavored Pup-Tarts, an a folded photo. Everything he needs, right here. He smiles grimly at the disintegrating happy face of the ironed-on cartoon fox, and then looks over his shoulder. She's not there. Good.

Taking another, heavier breath, the little fox slips the backpack over his shoulders and quietly closes the door behind him. He forces his feet down the steps. And then groans as the clouds finally break into rain. But there's no turning back. Not after…no, he can't. He just can't.

A noise pierces through the rain. The little fox worriedly looks over his right shoulder. The pangolin slides forward, his snoring head dipping into his chest. Sighing with relief, the little fox resumes his journey with his left arm raised, to shield his head from the rain. And, of course, that stupid strap starts to slide off his left shoulder, again. With a growl, he moves it back. Of course, it slides down, again, making him accidentally look back at the apartment building.

No, he can't look back. He has to keep walking. That way, she never has to worry about him, ever again. That way, he doesn't have to see her frightened face, like that night…his claws dig into the stupid strap. No, he can't think about that. Instead, he turns from the apartment building and the bus stop with the snoring pangolin. No turning back.

He makes a left at the corner, and yips when his left foot hooks a crack in the sidewalk. The little fox barely stops himself from falling with a stomp of his right foot. The backpack threatens to slide off and spill. He growls and shoves the strap back over his shoulder. No, he isn't going to be tripped up by a stupid crack! He can't!

But angrily stomping the crack doesn't help, either. As his aching right foot attests.

The little fox grabs the nearby brick and mortar wall. He swallows a whimper building in his throat. No, he won't be tripped by a stupid crack. The little fox tenderly rubs his sore right foot. No, he can't cry. Not here, not now. Someone will hear him. Someone probably already has heard him. The little fox's eyes clench and paws clutch the sides of his head.

Tires crunch over the cracked road. Someone's coming! Someone might see him!

The little fox's eyes shoot open. A dark green car approaches, its headlights dimmed and windows blackened by the faint light. He leans into the wall. Maybe his red fur will blend in with the bricks. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. The car comes to a stop. He risks a look.

No one steps out of the car, or asks him why he's walking outside this late at night. No one even looks out the window (he thinks). The green car just pauses at the Stop sign, and then disappears to the left, away from the apartment building. And it doesn't return.

The little fox peels himself from the wall. And then groans, when he remembers the Pup-Tarts. He prepares to check his backpack, when sharp and cold raindrops strike his muzzle. With his left arm back in the air, the little fox looks down the sidewalk.

No more cars. Good.

He walks a few feet down, until he reaches a dark blue awning. Spared from the rain, the little fox slides off his backpack and carefully opens it. A red shirt unfurls. The secured baggie is unharmed, aside from a few more crumbs lining the bottom. Should he eat one? No, better not. He has to keep moving. He zips up the backpack and fits it over his shoulders. Time to go.

But he freezes a five steps from the awning and looks behind him. Something dips back around the corner. No, it can't be her. She's still asleep. She doesn't know. The little fox bares his teeth and softly growls. Whoever it is, they're not showing. Good. He turns back towards the sidewalk stretching into the rest of the city.

And his feet freeze, again, when he sees just how little light there is ahead.

Why should he be scared? He can see in the dark. Nocturnal mammals like him are made for the dark! He's a Predator! Predators bite! Predators fight! He has teeth! He has claws! He can fight! He will fight! He will…

One of the streetlamps burns out. A frightened yip escapes him before he can choke it back down. He spins around, just in case they…that Stranger came back. But The Stranger doesn't come back. Good. He can do this. He has to do this.

Colder drops strike the back of his neck. He angrily waves his left arm above his head. The streetlight creaks back on. The little fox smiles and triumphantly runs towards it. He can do this! The streetlight holds long enough, to reveal a tree reaching towards the street. His eyes adjust perfectly. This is going to work!

The little fox lowers his cold, wet arm and settles under the tree. The concrete is nice and dry, if a bit chilly. He smiles, until his face drifts back to the street, towards home. He sees his mother, still sleeping peacefully. She's happy. She's not hurting or scared, not because of him. And that's why he can't stay. He can't turn back.

But where is he gonna go?

It doesn't matter. As long as he's far away, as long as he never scares her, ever again…he will be happy. Still, he catches himself taking another look towards the apartment building. With a resolved growl, he forces himself to get back onto his feet and continue walking.

---

Nick made one last bow towards the Conejillo house. The rain pattering the top of his head didn't sway him, one bit. He stretched out his right arm over Judy, until they reached the Hopps Family Farm truck. She shook her head and waited until she stepped into the cab to laugh. Nick smirked and gave a little bow through the window. She waved for him to get inside and settled into her seat. "'Raindrops of Heaven'?"

He curled his right arm atop the door handle. It smeared water, still damp from its valiant shielding of his partner from the sudden storm. "It's called a sales pitch, my dear Hopps. As the daughter of merchants, I figured you'd be familiar with the concept."

The gray rabbit started the ignition. "We were making a delivery, Slick. They already paid for it." A smirk grew across her face. "But…'Raindrops of Heaven'?"

He shrugged. "Could've gone with my original plan: 'An Orgasm for Your Tongue'. But I decided to be a gentlemammal."

Judy groaned and covered her face with her free paw. "Thank you."

The red fox grinned. "I thought people around here were a little more…" He spun his left paw. "…frank about these kinds of things."

"We are, kinda. But it woulda sounded a little weird coming out of you." She frowned apologetically. "I'm sorry; that sounded horrible."

"Relax, I get you. It's like the C-word."

Judy's frown cracked into an embarrassed grin. "We've been over that. It's okay if you call me "cute" in private, but please don't say it around other rabbits."

He raised his left paw. "I'm a good fox, Carrots. I know better."

"Thank goodness for that."

"I try."

After permitting herself to roll her eyes, Judy checked the rearview and started backing up. Ahead, the youngest of the Conejillo brood ran to the door and waved. Judy paused a moment to wave back. Nick smiled warmly and waved with her. The youngest Conejillo laughed and retreated into the house. Feeling content, Judy pulled out of the driveway and shifted onto the road.

Nick settled into his seat and looked out the passenger side window. Raindrops broke and trailed down the glass in long, sickly fingers. The red fox smiled, leaned closer, and breathed onto it. Much to his amusement, a white spot of condensation blossomed. He carefully traced the outline of bunny head with his fingertip.

"You're gonna leave a smudge," Judy warned.

The fox laughed and pulled his finger away. With a devious smile, he pressed his cool fingertip to Judy's right cheek. She gasped, laughed, and swatted his paw away. The produce truck swerved a little to the left. Judy quickly steered it back into place.

"Watch the road, Carrots."

She narrowed her eyes. A pot hole materialized near the far right, a few feet ahead. An evil smile curled on her face. But then came the better-not sigh, followed by the professional, neutral expression. Instead, she steered a hair to the left, to promptly avoid it.

"A chance for payback, and you missed it," he chuckled.

"I'm not gonna mess up my parents' truck, just to get back at you, Nick."

The fox tsk-tsked and wagged his finger. "Now, Judith, we both know that's not the real reason."

Judy hiked the wheel sharply to the right.

Nick pressed into his seat, but couldn't stop from laughing. "Okay, okay, you made your point. Your honor has been avenged."

With a content smile, she steadied their course. "Good to hear, Nicholas."

The red fox's tail, bored of hooking around the top of the seat, settled between them, stopping just short of the gearshift. Moving her right paw from the wheel, Judy lightly stroked the tip. A strange, surprised, and adorable whine escaped Nick, before he could clasp his mouth shut. She giggled and retracted her paw. "Sorry, Slick. I should have asked, first."

Nick peeled his paw away, revealing a suitably amused grin. "I understand. You bunnies lack self-control."

"I can still slug you, you know." Her fingers slipped down and curled, matching her equally amused grin.

"Again with the corporal punishment."

"I have to keep you in line, somehow."

"You attract more flies with honey, Carrots."

Judy stuck out her tongue and groaned.

Nick nodded. "I know, that's such a disgusting mental image. Besides, crickets are much tastier. Crunchier, too."

The gray rabbit eased into a relaxed smile. And soon, her fingers slipped from the wheel and ran through his tail fur. Nick closed his eyes and slumped towards the rain-splattered window. A steady, quiet moan rose in his throat. Her smile grew and her fingers dug a little deeper. Nick's left foot tapped the floormat.

Judy guiltily pulled her paw away. "Sorry about that. I don't like to be so hard on you."

The fox shrugged, tilting his face away to hide his disappointed frown. "I'm a jerk. Like you said, you gotta keep me in line, somehow."

"Don't feel too bad. You behaved yourself at the Conejillos."

"If my bad boy attitude ruined your parents' benevolent scheme to spread their wonderful blueberries to the rest of the world, I'd never forgive myself."

"I'm glad you're so considerate of my parents' livelihood."

"It's good practice, for when they become my in-laws."

Judy's cheeks flared. And the fox turned and triumphantly grinned, before her drooping ears could cover them. She sighed, but then smiled back at him. "You better not talk like that, 'til you can back it up with an emerald ring."

Nick scoffed. "Diamonds not good enough for you?"

Judy briefly met his gaze. "Emeralds are nicer."

A warm smile spread across his muzzle. "When you're right, you're right, Miss Hopps."

Content, Nick leaned back into the seat. His eyes gradually returned to the window. Rain gathered into a paw shape that stretched down the glass. Through it, the grass and rows of the field warped into a melting pot of greens and browns. Beyond that, rabbit workers in bright yellow ponchos flanked a white pickup. And a Hopps Family Farm sign tilted in the rain. And a little fox kit ran into the–

He snapped up. "Stop the truck."

"Nick, what's wrong?"

"Stop the truck!" he repeated, stomping his left foot and unbuckling himself.

Judy quickly pulled over and killed the engine. Before she could reach over, Nick flung the door open and bolted out into the rain. "What's going on?! Where are you going?!"

Breaking clusters of mud and grass beneath his feet, Nick ran for the bushes. The flash of orange-red, which surely took the form of a fox kit, surely disappeared among them. He shook off a thick wad of mud clinging to his right foot and pried the nearest two bushes apart. And…there was no one there? The rain beat down, sealing his trademark Pawaiian shirt against his back fur. He stifled an annoyed growl and carefully looked over the next two bushes. But before he could take another step, something dove into the mud.

"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to be scared," he soothed. "It's okay. I won't hurt you, I promise. I just wanna make sure you're okay."

The third bush shuddered. Nick slowly reached over and pulled as many leaves and branches aside as he could. Once again, no one was there. The fox's ears folded against his skull. His mind painted images of the poor, scared fox kit. They fell forward into the mud, sinking with each attempt to dig their way out. They violently coughed and sneezed. They cried for someone to help them. He shuddered.

"Nick!"

He groaned and squeezed his face. As much as ignoring Judy put his heart in a vice grip, he had to keep looking. He knew what he saw. There was a fox kit out here, somewhere. What else could it have been? That poor kit. Lost and alone. He had to find them, before–

Behind the third bush, something fell into a puddle with a soft splash.

Nick seized a handful of leaves and tugged. There was the puddle, with a large stick collapsed across it. He narrowed his eyes and leaned closer. No scents. No footprints. Nothing. Come on, Wilde, you're a cop. You know what you saw. Choking back another annoyed growl, Nick slid back and scanned the area around him. No frightened kid stumbled out of the bushes. No whimpers or cries reached his ears. No flash of orange-red shot for the horizon. No one…

Oh, God, you're seeing things. And you've terrified Carrots by acting like a total nutcase. Great job.

"No…I…" He sighed and waited for a few seconds more. Surely, the fox kit was still hiding? All this yelling, that would scare any little one. "It's okay; I'm not gonna hurt you. You don't have to hide from me. It's okay…"

A fox kit flickered before his eyes, flashing worry in their green ones. He took a step back and held out his right paw. But the fox kit quickly disappeared. He blinked. That couldn't have been…no, it couldn't have been. There had to be an actual fox kit here. There had to be.

His Pawaiian shirt froze to his back, like a cold layer of dead skin. He blinked back the raindrops sliding into his eyes. Still no fox kit emerging from the bushes. But there had to be one. He wasn't just seeing things. He…he couldn't have just…he wasn't seeing things. He couldn't be. There had to be a fox kit, here, out in the rain. There had to be…

Forget it. Get back to the truck, before Carrots catches pneumonia dragging your crazy ass out of the mud. You're not gonna endanger her over a stupid flashback.

"I'm…I'm sorry…" Nick groaned and clutched his face. "I'm so sorry…"

A ball of water broke free from his collar folds and chilled the top of his spine. The fox permitted himself to growl and turned back towards the produce truck. "I'm sorry…" And before Judy would come after him, he ran.

---

This time, he expertly avoids another crack in the sidewalk. What a clever fox! Those Prey kids didn't know what they were talking about!

He chuckles and rechecks his surroundings. Home…no, her home is about…seventeen, maybe eighteen streets back. It's still raining, but he can handle that. Predators like him can see in the dark. Predators like him can walk for hours. Predators like him can do anything.

Except join the Junior Ranger Scouts.

His claws dig into his curled right fist. No, that's not going to help. He relaxes his fingers and brushes his sore palm. Ducking another street-reaching tree near a chain-link fence, the little fox takes another breather. Walking this many blocks is hard work. He closes his eyes and kneads his palm a little longer. Feels nice, like the way his mother soothed some of his wounds.

No, he can't think about that. He's doing this for her, to ensure he never scares her, ever again.

Another pair of headlights!

The little fox crouches low, propping himself atop the thankfully dry cement. A dark blue car shoots out of the darkness and over a conveniently placed puddle. Cold, dirty water soars into the air and coats his backpack and head. He sputters and coughs. A thick, lightly dusted fleck of saliva hits the curb. He chokes back a growl.

Something ducks behind the tree across the street.

The little fox yelps and stumbles backwards. The stupid strap slides free, dangling his backpack dangerously close to the ground. He steps until the chain-link rattles against his back. The pack falls and lands with a far too loud thud. Across the street, something peers around the tree, before vanishing once more.

The Stranger is following him! He just knows it! But it can't be his mother. Nor can it be that pangolin snoring at the bus stop. The Stranger coughs. The little fox pushes himself up and bares his teeth. It seems to work, since The Stranger isn't showing their ugly face. The little fox snaps his teeth. The Stranger still doesn't show.

Triumphant, the little fox collects and fits on his backpack. He quickly checks the house behind him. Despite the rattling chain-link, no one comes out, expecting to find some mean fox kit waiting for them. Probably some stupid Prey children, like those…jerks. The little fox clutches his face and shudders. No, he can't be distracted by stupid stuff! He needs to keep walking!

After making absolute sure The Stranger won't lunge, the little fox resumes. The rain pauses as he steps out from under the tree. Yet every five or six steps, he shoots a worried look over his shoulder. No, The Stranger won't come back. No one wants to deal with an angry fox kit. No one wants to deal with those teeth. Not when they don't have a muzz–

NO! HE CAN'T THINK ABOUT THAT!

The little fox stomps the cement, thankfully avoiding another crack, this time. He shoots a glare over his shoulder. The Stranger doesn't come running. Good. He turns his attention back to the street. Where should he go, next? Maybe there'll be another tree coming up, in case it rains, again. Which it does, as soon as he takes that next step. Stupid weather!

Frustrated, the little fox looks for something else to think about. Boring houses. Boring fences. More boring houses, with so few trees to shield him from the rain. Only about two streetlights that haven't burned out. But why is he worried about that? Predators like him can handle the dark. And if anyone comes for him, one snap of his teeth will change their minds. Yes, that's what they expect. And that's what they'll get. He's sure of that.

Expertly avoiding another pesky crack, he pauses at another corner. A streetlight hangs nearby, flickering a sickly orange-yellow peppered by rain. He can do this. The little fox leaps for the pole. His paw slides free from the metal. He lands on the sidewalk sharp to the left. It takes everything to grit his teeth and cut off the pained yelp that wants to escape.

Footsteps!

The little fox throws himself onto his feet and bites at the cold air. But there's no one there. He clutches his sore right arm and narrows his eyes. There has to be someone! He hikes his head up and tries to pick up a scent. Nothing but rainwater. He groans and clicks his teeth twice. Whoever it was, they're not showing their stupid, ugly face. Like those stupid Prey–

He fails to stop a frustrated growl that echoes down the street.

A door, from a couple houses to the right, opens. The little fox dives out of the orange-yellow aura, scraping his knees on the concrete. He chokes back another yelp and keeps level with the ground. He can't be seen here! He can't be! If he is, someone will tell her! And then she'll get scared and hurt, all because of him! After he said he wouldn't do that, every again!

The little fox shuts his eyes and presses his face to the sidewalk. An unpleasant chill shoots down the back of his head, and then all the way down to his tail. But no one walks out. The door from a couple houses down, to the right, closes. But it could be a trick! He has to lay low. Even as barbs in the concrete dig into his eyelids and the bridge of his snout.

After what feels like an hour of rain sealing his shirt to his fur, the little fox stands up. The stupid strap almost slides off. He lifts it back into place and cautiously peers around the corner. No lights. No one stepping out of their house. Good. He looks up. His eyes shut tightly under the orange-yellow streetlight. The little fox covers his face and takes a deep breath. It's okay. No one saw him. She doesn't know, and she doesn't have to be hurt, again. It's fine.

Just to be sure, he waits a few seconds before taking his next step. With his left arm raised over his head, he searches for the next street-reaching tree. Success! There's one about three blocks down, to the right. He quickly checks both sides and bolts across. The backpack bobs uncomfortably off his left shoulder and snags the curb. The stupid strap yanks him right back onto the tarmac.

Well, at least he misses that big, dirty puddle a few feet away.

The little fox growls and slams his fists. Rising before anyone can see him, he seizes and throws the backpack onto the sidewalk. The stupid strap almost completely tears off. Paws shaking, he clambers up and drags the backpack by its good strap towards the tree. Rain dips into his eyes and chills its way down his now-exposed back. Choking back another growl, the little fox settles. After retracing some steps, to collect his pack, snagged on another stupid crack.

Positioning it atop the mostly dry concrete, he checks inside. Clothes are fine. Photo is fine. And a few more crumbs pile around the bottom of the Pup-Tarts baggie. He sighs and rests against the bark. His paws fidget over the baggie. Why not? After all that, he deserves one. He cracks the seal and pulls out a crumb-dusted Pup-Tart. Dark blueberry filling breaks through the crust. He takes a big bite.

Someone's coming!

The little fox quickly shoves the Pup-Tart back into the baggie. Down the sidewalk, someone shifts around in the shadows of the last block. His feet freeze. His unwanted pursuer peeks around the corner, their head perfectly cloaked in shadow. His face falters. No, he's a Predator! Predators can do anything! A Predator wouldn't run away from…

It's The Stranger, isn't it?! Why can't they just go away and leave him alone?!

Instead, their sickly arm curls out. The little fox narrows his eyes and bares his teeth. The Stranger shuffles onto the sidewalk, their arms shifting and swaying. Their paws crack into long claws. The little fox's eyes widen. The Stranger pauses and holds a sickly paw over their head. The claws bend and twist into the shape of a mouth. In the back of his mind, bones break and teeth gnash. He takes a step back.

The Stranger lowers their paw and points to him.

Forgetting everything Predators are supposed to do, the little fox throws the backpack onto his left shoulder. The top flaps open, nearly dropping the Pup-Tarts onto the sidewalk. He clumsily tugs the zipper up and breaks into a run. Behind him, The Stranger follows. He forces his eyes towards the sidewalk. No, he can do this! He can get away! He can do anything! Those stupid Prey children were just–!

Sharp claws seize the backpack.

The little fox yelps and releases the backpack from his shoulder. The Stranger grunts and falls. This is his chance! With a hopefully not too scared-sounding cry, he bows his head and quickens his pace. The Stranger lets out a throaty moan, like a monster that hides under the bed. But that won't stop the little fox! He's a Predator, and Predators can do anything! He can do this!

He ducks around the next corner and finally comes to a stop near a wooden fence, three houses down from the Stop sign. He leans into the wood, digging his claws in as he pants and coughs. After about the fiftieth cough, he looks over his shoulder. The Stranger is not there, waiting for him. The little fox quietly laughs. He got away. Predators can do any…

His face sinks, as his paw runs over his bare back. He shoots a fearful look towards the corner. The Stranger has his backpack. He let The Stranger catch it! The little fox shuts his eyes and growls, slamming his head against the fence. How can he be so stupid! Predators are supposed to be able to do anything! How can he be so stupid?!

Footsteps.

The little fox pulls his face away from the fence, just in time to see The Stranger down the corner. They turn to face. It takes everything not to scream.

---

Judy's heart threatened to drill a hole in her chest. After calling his name for the fifth time, she unbuckled and reached for the door handle. But then her fox ran back. Her paw pulled away and settled over her heart. Nick Wilde, thoroughly soaked and with mud caked around his feet and pant legs, slowed to a walk and opened the passenger's side door. He scraped his feet and slid inside. His eyes locked onto the road.

The gray rabbit took a deep breath and gripped the wheel. Her heart steadied to a more reasonable pace. She took another deep breath and slowly turned to face him. "Nick, what is going on?"

"I'm sorry, Carrots. I didn't mean to run out into the rain, like a complete idiot," he flatly replied.

Judy sighed, started the engine, and cranked up the heater. Her vulpine partner sank into his seat, still not looking at her. His tail shied away, resigning itself to curl behind him. After a few seconds, Nick's eyes slowly drifted towards something in the field. Rain spilled over from behind his ears and atop his muzzle, making him shiver. The rabbit slowly extended one paw to his shoulder. "Nick."

"You can stop blasting me with hot air, Fluff." He tried to grin. "I'm a big, strong fox. I promise I won't get the sniffles."

She gently squeezed his shoulder. "Can you at least look at me, when you say that?"

Nick inhaled and turned his head to meet her gaze. "I'll be fine, Mama Doe. I just got a little wet. It's not gonna kill me."

Judy frowned, but said nothing. Her paw slid from his shoulder and shut off the heater.

Nick groaned and angrily wiped away a thick raindrop trailing between his eyes. "Please, don't start. I'm not in the mood for Twenty Questions."

Judy's face shifted into a glare, before easing into a more neutral frown. The fox's attention turned back to the rain-slicked road. Another irritating drop trailed right into his left eye. He choked back a growl and wiped it away with the back of his right arm. His tail stiffened behind him, before falling lifeless to the floor. The rabbit set her paws into her lap.

"I'm sorry, Judy. I just hate it when rain gets in my eyes. And it'd be really rude, if I shook off all this water all over you. Then you might catch the sniffles."

"I'll be fine."

"You can't dive kick the common cold, Carrots." A little smile worked its way onto his face, as he pushed himself to face her. "But I'm sure you'd find a way to kick its ass."

Judy managed a little smile of her own. "Yeah, I would."

His tail curled back towards the gearshift and resettled between them. She freed up her right paw to stroke it. Nick closed his eyes and leaned towards the window. They slowly reopened. A flash of orange-red darted through the grass and disappeared into the bushes. He growled and buried his face in his paw.

No, stop that. You're just gonna scare her–more than you already have. You can hate yourself for going crazy, later. Don't make things worse.

With a little nod, Nick forced his paw into his lap and his eyes to stare ahead. Judy resumed stroking his tail. The fur bristled unpleasantly under her fingers. She sighed.

His eyes narrowed. "That's it?"

"What?"

"This is the part where you start to interrogate me. Where you stomp that little foot of yours and tell me we're not going anywhere, until I tell you what's wrong." He turned to her. "So, why aren't you threatening to strand us, unless I spill my guts?"

"I'm letting you calm down," she replied, softly. "It's not gonna help either of us, if you go flying into a rage."

Nick's face softened. "I'm sorry." A feeble smile twisted at the edge of his muzzle. "I'm just so used to your no-nonsense, immediate results approach."

The rabbit lightly squeezed his tail. "We're off the clock, Slick. If you wanna talk, we'll talk. If you don't, we won't. But you need a moment. Take as long as you need."

"And your parents aren't gonna get worried, if we don't get back before dark?"

She rolled her eyes and pulled Nick's tail into her lap. Her other paw joined in, petting the now not-as-bristly fur. "I'm here for you, Nick. You know that."

"Yeah, I do." He leaned over and caressed the top of her head. "I do." As Judy stroked his tail, Nick's eyes wandered back towards the grass. He sighed and gently gripped her shoulder. "Okay, I'll talk. Your superior interrogation skills have broken me."

"And I didn't even have to play bad cop."

He briefly smiled at her. "You're all good cop, Judy." The smile faded. "I just thought I saw someone, out there."

She set her paws back onto the wheel. "Someone bad?"

Nick shook his head. "Not bad, just…" Spill it, Wilde. She'll understand. Might be the only one who will. "I thought I saw a fox kit running through the grass, over there."

Judy tilted forward and inspected the grass, mud, and bushes.

"Don't bother looking, Carrots." The fox sank into his seat. "I thought I saw a runaway kit. So, I bolted out of the truck and into the cold rain. And then I got my feet all nice and dirty. And there was no kit, there. And I could have gotten the sniffles. Pretty dumb, huh?"

"No, Nick, it's not. That's admirable." She gave his tail another quick brush, before he could say anything. "Well, the part about trying to save a runaway kit is, anyway."

"That's just it, Fluff. There was no kit. I was just…maybe I'm going crazy. Maybe the Zootopian beat's giving me a savior complex. I should get my head checked." His paws weakly twisted his temples. "If I can unscrew my skull, first."

Judy took his left paw and held it. "You're not crazy. But, next time, tell me before you going running out into the rain. I'd hate for my big, strong fox to get the sniffles."

"You're never gonna let me live that down, are you, Mama Doe?"

She grinned widely. "Nope. Because I love my big, strong fox."

Nick playfully nudged her away. "Okay, now you're just being corny. Not that there's anything wrong with that." His eyes shifted back to the grass. See, she doesn't think you're crazy. And you didn't have to tell her…no, she doesn't have to know about that. Yet.

Judy gave his left paw a final squeeze and regripped the steering wheel. "You love it."

"Yeah, I do. Never change, Hopps."

As Judy prepared to resume driving, Nick closed his eyes. Orange-red sparked through the darkness. A faded sidewalk trailed behind it. The concrete cracked away, revealing thick grass and heavy mud that threatened to swallow everything whole. A sharp pain shot up his right arm. The fox shook himself awake and pried his paw from the door handle. He didn't need to look, to know she was watching.

Before she could say anything, Nick chuckled and rubbed his sore fingers. "Good thing I'm not very strong. I don't think your parents would appreciate me wrecking their truck." He pitifully flexed his right arm. "I'm fine, Fluff."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I'll be…" Nick's head snapped towards the field.

Orange-red flickered out of the grass and tumbled to the ground. The fox blinked. It was still there, and it was still shaped like a fox kit. His right paw grabbed the door handle, while his left paw moved for his seatbelt. But his arms locked. No, don't scare her like that, again. You gotta stop acting like a damn lunatic. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Calm down. You're not gonna scare her. Now, open your eyes and keep quiet. Everything will be–

The driver's door slowly opened.

Nick reopened his eyes. The orange-red kit was still there; and they now tried to hide under the first bush. And to his left, Judy buckled her seatbelt and stepped out into the rain. The fox growled and followed suit, ignoring the drops that bombarded his eyes. So, I'm not crazy. And someone needs our help. Let's go.

Judy paused at the edge of the road. Nick stopped to her right and took a cautious breath. Ahead of them, the kit kicked up dirt and sank into the mud. A flattened backpack collapsed against their spine. Judy took a step forward. Nick held out his arm to stop her. "Let's take this slow," he whispered. "We don't wanna scare him. No more than I probably already did."

She smiled and gave his arm a light squeeze. He smiled back. Together, they stepped into the field. Nick locked his eyes onto the kit's tail, whipping around in a desperate attempt to shield them from the rain. Judy broke away from him and stopped a few feet from the bush. The kit froze, their tail stiffening over the back of their head. Nick cast a nod to Judy, who motioned for him to start.

The older fox sighed and crouched down. The kit's tail lifted from the back of their head, revealing a worried pair of brown eyes. Nick eased his face into a gentle smile. "Hey, there. Kind of a bad time to be playing hide and seek, isn't it?"

The kit attempted a feeble laugh. Their tail curled around the flattened, soaked backpack. Nick shuffled a couple steps closer. The kit looked between him and Judy. Their eyes widened at the sight of the gray rabbit. Before Nick could reach out to them, the kit dug their paws deep into the mud and resumed trying to crawl under the bush.

Nick carefully placed his paw on the flattened backpack. "Hey, hey, it's okay. We're not gonna hurt you. We're just here to help."

The kit snarled and flipped over, slinging a wad of mud at the bottom of Nick's jaw. He blinked. The kit rose to their feet and stumbled towards the bush. They paused and looked back at Nick, their brown eyes sparking with alarm. Nick smiled and slowly brushed the mud wad away. "Nice shot."

Judy fought the urge to walk towards the kit, even as those widened eyes absolutely broke her heart. Still, she smiled calmly and set her paws at her sides. "You've got great aim. Of course, he's such an easy target."

"Suppose that's what I get for crossing the best mudslinger in the county," Nick added.

The alarm faded from the kit's eyes. Their tail descended to the soft, wet grass, spinning easily around their feet. Nick slowly rose and carefully walked towards the kit. The little one locked eyes with the older fox. Good, keep your eyes on me. He cautiously held out his left paw and brushed away a drop that landed squarely in his left eye. "That's the bad thing about rain. It really likes to go for the eyes."

It took a few seconds, but the kit let out another, slightly stronger laugh. "Yeah…"

Nick's smile grew. "Yeah. It's a pain, isn't it? Makes our tails all sloppy, like we're dragging a wet sack around." He bent down and "struggled" to lift his tail into the air.

Another, slightly stronger laugh. "Yeah, I don't like my tail when it gets really, really wet."

Nick chuckled. "Smart kid. So, then, if you really hate it when your tail gets wet, why are you out here in the rain?"

The kit's face sank. They shot another look towards Judy, who stayed where she was. Their muzzle quivered.

Nick calmly shook his head. "It's okay; you don't have to tell us. But I'm sure you'd like to get out of the rain, right?"

The kit took a step back. Their right foot hooked a rock embedded in the grass and mud. With a little yelp, they threw out their arms.

Right on cue, Nick deftly caught the kit by the shoulders, anchoring them to the ground. The kit shuddered a little at his touch. Nick pulled his paws away and nodded. "We really should get out of here. How about we go somewhere warmer and drier…I'm sorry, I didn't get your name. I'm Nick." He held out his left paw.

The kit slowly held out their right paw to meet with his. "My name's Mikey."

Nick gave Mikey's paw a little shake. "Good to meet you, Mikey." He gestured to Judy. "And this is my good friend–"

"Judy Hopps!" the little kit yelled.

The older fox frowned. "Word spreads fast around here, doesn't it, Carrots?" he halfheartedly quipped. "Yes, she's a good friend of mine. You don't have to–"

Mikey screamed and broke into another run. Nick shot a look at Judy, who already closed the distance between them. He rose to his feet and quickly moved around the bushes. Mikey was already several feet ahead, still screaming and trying to keep himself from falling back into the mud. Beyond the kit, Nick noticed the ground started to rise, leading to an uncomfortably high-looking ledge. A vice grip tightened around his heart.

The fox snapped back to reality when Judy grabbed his arm. "Come on, Slick. We gotta stop him before he hurts himself."

He nodded. "Yes."

Are you insane, Wilde? He's afraid of Judy, for some reason, and running after him is just gonna scare him some more!

The fox growled and shook away that thought, just in time to spot his lapine partner maneuvering around the mud and loose dirt left in the kit's wake. He grunted and followed suit, ignoring the vice grip around his heart. Ahead, Mikey still ran towards the ledge, completely oblivious to the potential danger. Judy was only a few feet behind.

Come on, Wilde! Don't be useless! You've been trained to do this! Now do it!

And yet, when Mikey looked back over his shoulder, with frightened eyes and a scream, Nick's heart sank deeper into the vice grip.

---

He risks a look behind. The sidewalk stretches into the dimly-lit cluster of houses and fences. He turns back. The Stranger still stands about two, maybe three feet away. And, for some reason, his nocturnal eyes can't see through the darkness that enshrouds them. He risks closing and reopening his eyes. The Stranger still stands there. And his backpack dangles uselessly in its extended claws.

The little fox tries to step away. He tries to yell. He tries to bite at the air. He tries to growl. But all he can do, is watch as The Stranger steps closer. His backpack drags along the sidewalk. The stupid strap snags and tears. The Stranger looks down.

He screams and runs backwards, almost colliding with the chain-link fence. The Stranger freezes. The little fox blinks and snaps his teeth. The Stranger takes a step back. A little grin crosses his face. As The Stranger moves towards him, the little fox stomps his right foot and snaps his teeth, again. The Stranger shudders, their claws slipping from the remaining strap. He looks down. The Stranger follows his gaze.

With an angry yelp, he rushes and snatches the backpack away. The Stranger takes another step back, their claws curling in retreat. The little fox laughs and slides the good strap over his shoulder. He can do this! Just like a real Predator! He opens his mouth wide and takes the biggest bite he can. The Stranger freezes. With a laugh, the little fox turns and bolts down the sidewalk. He's done it! He's–

The little fox's enthusiasm dies the second he looks over his shoulder.

It starts with a horrible growl. Then, The Stranger leans forward, scraping their claws against the concrete and knocking a loose chip into the air. And then, after hiking their head towards them, they begin to run. The little fox forces himself to look ahead. Another horrible growl echoes behind him. He shakes his head and grits his teeth. At the back of his mind, large teeth sink into his throat and lift him into the air. And those stupid Prey children watch. And they laugh.

Swallowing a frustrated groan, the little fox dives around the next corner. A slightly rusted mailbox perches nearby. He slides behind it, pressing his right cheek against the cold, wet metal. His backpack nearly slides off. He pushes the strap back on and slows his breathing. A few feet ahead, The Stranger stops at the corner and looks around. Their claws grasp at the air. His ears fold, trying to shut out the sound of tearing flesh. He fights to keep his eyes open.

The Stranger slides back down the street. The sound of tearing flesh stops. The mental image of teeth fade away. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he reopens them, The Stranger doesn't reemerge, claws drawn and charging directly at the mailbox. He recloses his eyes and peels his face from the cold, wet metal. When he's sure The Stranger won't reappear, the little fox allows himself to laugh.

Until his mother's face flashes in the darkness. He reopens his eyes. The images play out atop the ground.

The Stranger, failing to capture him, stalks down the sidewalk, retracing his steps back to the apartment building. With their claws drawn, they walk up the front steps and easily tear through the wooden door. No one steps out, either because they're asleep or because they're scared of footsteps thudding down the hall. The Stranger hikes their head into the air and follows the scent of a fox. And then they tear through the apartment door, where his mother wakes up–

His claws dig into his palms, and a low growl escapes him. The little fox starts to turn towards the street corner. But his feet freeze. His mother will wonder why he's out here. Her eyes will widen, and her paws will cover her face. She will look exactly like she did, that terrible night. And he'll scare her, after he promised he never would, ever again…

But he can't let The Stranger get to her, either! He grunts and slams his right fist against the mailbox. And then pulls his aching fingers to his chest. His eyes start to water. No, going back will scare her. It will hurt her. But so might The Stranger. He can't let them hurt his mother! Even if they have big claws and big teeth that will catch him by the throat! The little fox's right foot stomps forward. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

And when he reopens them, The Stranger stands a couple feet away. And their claws rake the side of the mailbox. Once more, the little fox screams and runs. And once more, The Stranger pursues with that horrible growl.

He kicks a loose piece of cement and jumps over another crack. The footsteps keep coming. He readies to dive around another corner, when claws swing far too close to the back of his head. The little fox flails his arms and shoots ahead, nearly tripping over the curb. The footsteps stop. He risks a look. The Stranger throws their claws into the air. He turns back to the sidewalk and stops just after another tree. Putting it between him and his pursuer, the little fox leans into the bark and tries to steady his heartbeat.

His paws shield his eyes. Rainwater slides down his palms and chill his eyelids. His backpack slips. He doesn't bother to catch it. The little fox forces his paws down and peers around the tree. No sign of his pursuer. He presses tightly against the bark, ignoring points digging into his right ear and cheek. Despite his heart tightening like a vice, he narrows his eyes and watches for that monster to reappear. But The Stranger doesn't come.

The little fox sighs and pulls himself from the tree. A chunk of bark peels off and hooks onto his damp cheek. He flicks it away and looks down. His backpack lies with the faded cartoon fox facing up, his disintegrating face darkened by rainwater. Remembering the precious baggie of Pup-Tarts, he grabs the backpack and drags it over. Quickly unzipping it, he roots around and finds it trapped beneath his red shirt. He tugs it up.

The baggie snags the photo and pulls it to the top. It slips free and drifts towards damp concrete. He immediately drops the baggie and claps his paws together. The photo sticks to his wet palms. He frowns and peels the photo off, placing it atop his backpack while he wipes his palms dry. He looks down. One of the Pup-Tarts snapped in half. His muzzle bends into a frown, which worsens as his settle on the photo.

His past self stands with his mother, her smiling face next to his left shoulder. He wears the crisp Junior Ranger Scout uniform proudly, his right arm hooked in a salute to the camera. An ugly white crease cuts across his throat. But his past self smiles determinedly, unaware of what will happen. And his mother also smiles. Her paw warmly pats his cap, while her other paw smoothens his bandana. Another white crease hooks her wrist. But she still smiles.

The little fox shuts his eyes and presses his chin to his chest. For a few seconds, her paw lightly squeezes his right shoulder. He shudders and clutches his head. His tail coils around his ankles. No, he can't go back. A low growl escapes his mouth, as his paws slam hard against his legs. His tail uncurls and stiffens. No, he can't go back. He can't forget why he's going, in the first place. He can't scare her, ever again.

And with this resolve, he stuffs the photo back into the pack and seals it. As he fits it over his shoulder, he looks to the corner. The Stranger doesn't reemerge, claws drawn and head enshrouded by darkness. The little fox nods and resumes walking. And then groans, when he returns to collect the fallen baggie of Pup-Tarts.

No, he can do this. He has to do this. He has to.

His Pup-Tarts secured, the little fox glances over his shoulder. The Stranger still doesn't come back. He smiles a little, until a thick raindrop breaks right between his eyes. He groans and wipes it away. Still, he can't complain. The Stranger finally gets the message and is gonna leave him alone. He considers retrieving the baggie. No, better wait. He spots another streetlight sputtering orange-yellow a couple blocks ahead. He nods and runs towards it.

Still no cars. Still no one looking for him. His smile grows a little more. He expertly avoids another crack and keeps his drooping backpack from snagging on the curb. Everything works out so well, until his muzzle twitches and cracks in a sneeze. The little fox groans and runs the back of his free paw across his nose. And takes a moment to rub the wet snot onto a nearby fence. The rain will surely wash it away, right?

He stops just outside the stuttering orange-yellow aura and looks back. The Stranger still hasn't returned. He moves to next tree, and then nearly drops his backpack as he breaks into a sneezing fit. His paws fly up to clamp his muzzle. Bits of saliva and snot spatter against his palms. Sliding the backpack off, he leans near the tree and tries hard to stifle the sneezes exploding behind his closed paws. Soon, he peels them away and reaches for a leaf to wipe away the gross stuff. Once he's clean, he opens his backpack and pulls out the baggie.

That snapped Pup-Tart might as well be eaten. The little fox pulls out one half and sits at the base of the tree. He takes a bite and glances to his right. Down the way, the houses stop before the entrance to a tunnel lined with warning signs and white sawhorses. UNDER CONSTRUCTION, DO NOT ENTER. A long strand of yellow tap sags in the rain. A single amber light blinks like a distant eye.

He considers this discovery. A Predator like him can see in the dark. And tunnels always led to other parts of the city. And being in a tunnel would keep him out of the rain. (No more stupid sneezes.) And there's no way someone like The Stranger would be brave enough to follow him inside. He polishes off the Pup-Tart piece and licks the crumbs from his fingers. Yes, this will work. This has to work. Things are finally looking up!

The little fox tucks the baggie into his backpack and fixes the good strap in place. He checks behind. Still no sign of The Stranger. He smiles and looks back at the tunnel. But his right foot freezes. There isn't anything in the tunnel, is there? He blinks and leans forward. There's still nothing but the warning signs and sawhorses and blinking amber light. But what if…?

He growls and whirls around, snapping at the air. The Stranger isn't there. He whirls back towards the tunnel. Nothing comes screaming out, throwing the signs aside with large claws. No, he can do this. Anything stupid enough to follow him into the tunnel will pay dearly. Just like a real Predator, and not what those stupid Junior Ranger Scouts think!

The little fox resume walking. Around him, everything remains quiet. Still no cars. Still no mammals leaning out their doors. Just the rain, which seems a lot softer, now. A sneeze threatens to dislodge. He clamps his right paw over his shout and chokes it back. Yes, he can do this. He raises his left arm to shield his head and continues on to the tunnel, where he'll surely–

Footsteps thud behind him. He slowly turns.

The Stranger breaks into a run down the sidewalk, swiping their claws at the nearby fences and houses. Without screaming, he throws himself forward. Puddles break around his feet as he flees for the blinking amber eye. But no matter how fast he gets, the footsteps are still too close! And then comes the hideous, low, heavy breathing. His mind projects lips prying away to reveal teeth that clench around his throat. The little fox is merely one block away.

Claws shoot out beside his left ear and grab his shoulder.

Without thinking, the little fox slides off his backpack and swings it. The Stranger steps back, barely avoiding a shot to the gut. He growls and swings, again. This time, the backpack strikes their stupid, ugly face. Their claws reach for his shoulders. He raises the backpack as high as he can, and brings it down onto their head. The Stranger groans and hits the sidewalk. The little fox laughs triumphantly.

The Stranger rises to their feet. His smile immediately dies. He readies the backpack for another swing, when their claws catch it mid-swing. They tug it towards them, almost dragging the little fox off his feet. He valiantly grunts and pulls back, just barely freeing the backpack from their grasp. The stupid strap tears off, curling uselessly onto the concrete. Frustrated, he growls and lifts it high into the air. When The Stranger reaches for him, he throws it directly at their face.

Bull's-eye! They're down!

The little fox thrusts his paw excitedly into the air. The Stranger groans and tries to push themselves back up. The little fox considers a kick to the head. But, instead, he turns to the amber light. He nods and breaks into a run for the warning signs and sawhorses. The Stranger still lies there, beaten and humiliated. He did it! He could do it! He can do it!

At least, until he reaches the tunnel. As soon as he passes the amber light, his feet freeze. A bitter cold surges over his damp clothes and fur. A horrible scent strikes his nose, pushing images of wet dirt and rusting metal and the scary apartment basement. His paws slowly rise to his face. He blinks and tries to see through the darkness. He can't see a thing, beyond another sawhorse just barely visible a few feet inside.

Something taps the back of his head. He yelps loudly and clamps his paws over his mouth. His yelp echoes softly into the tunnel, dying a few seconds in. His ears fold against his head, and his tail once again coils around his feet. And just now, he remembers he's missing his backpack. The little fox closes his eyes and swallows a frustrated, frightened snarl. When he reopens them, he spots a strand of yellow tape collapsing near his left foot.

Footsteps pause a couple feet behind him.

The little fox slowly turns. Sure enough, The Stranger stands there. Their low, heavy, horrible breathing picks up. They step towards him.

He holds back a scream and darts into the tunnel. The Stranger cries out towards him. The little fox ducks under the sawhorse and glances over his shoulder. The Stranger extends their claws towards him. He turns back to the darkness of the tunnel ahead, just in time for the ground to break under his feet.

---

She was still coming!

Mikey collapsed a few feet away from the ledge he still didn't see. The kit let out a frustrated growl and tried to push himself up, nearly slipping three times over the slick grass. His ears twitched. She was still coming! He dug his claws deep into the earth, dragging himself back onto his feet. His backpack slid from his shoulders. His dirty paw grabbed one of the straps and threw it towards her. She effortlessly leapt around it.

No, it would be all right. He just had to run a little longer. She couldn't chase him, forever. No, she wouldn't–

The kit's feet stopped just short of the ledge. Mikey slid unwillingly forward, getting a good look at the sudden drop that awaited him. He closed his eyes and cried out against the rain. When his right foot sank forward into the damp mud, he threw his weight backwards. But then his left foot slipped, too. With a scream, Mikey shut his eyes and braced himself for the fall.

A pair of strong arms firmly, but gently wrapped around his chest and pulled him back onto solid ground.

Mikey's eyes slowly reopened. The ledge slid away from him, just as easily as his feet slid over the wet grass. His eyes lowered to his tail. It did drag like a wet sack. That older fox was right! A little laugh escaped him. The strong arms eased their grip. His paws instinctively clutched them. A small, grating choking sound fled his muzzle, while he fought back tears.

"It's okay, it's okay. I've got you. You're safe," someone soothed.

The kit's paws froze. His eyes slowly looked up.

Judy gently gave Mikey a light hug. The fox kit started to shiver. She forced herself to keep smiling, despite the kit's claws digging uncomfortably into her arms. "It's okay. I've got you. Nothing bad is gonna happen. You're safe, now."

Mikey let out a low whimper. "Please, don't take me away from my family."

Judy's ears rose. "What?"

The fox kit threw out his paws and flailed his arms. Judy's eyes widened, but her arms stayed locked around his chest. Even as he tried to drag them both into the slick grass. She pressed her left foot down. Mikey fell back towards her. He clawed weakly at her arms and whimpered some more. The tears finally came, warping the world around him into a flurry of grays and greens and browns.

"Shhh…" she cooed, waiting patiently for the kit's claws to fall from her arms. "I'm not taking you away from anyone. Nick and I want to help you. That's all we want to do. We want to help you, Mikey."

The kit made one final, frail swipe at her left arm, before his arms fell uselessly to his sides. Judy waited a few seconds more and then released him. The fox kit slumped forward, his muzzle shuddering. She carefully caught him by the shoulders and turned him around. Mikey's head lifted slowly to meet her gaze. She held her smile. Which became all the more difficult as his muzzle clenched, and as more tears trailed down his cheeks.

"We want to help you, Mikey," she repeated, softly.

He shuddered. "Please, don't take me away from my family. She told me you would. Please, don't."

Her smile dropped. "Who told you that?"

Mikey bowed his head and buried his face into her chest. Judy slowly reembraced him. The fox kit closed his eyes and shuddered violently. She ran her paw down the back of his head. "It's okay. I'm not going to take you away from your family. I don't know who told you that, but it's not true."

Tears smeared against her shirt. She continued stroking the back of his head. Her ears twitched. The rabbit carefully tilted her head, just in time to spot Nick a couple feet away, hoisting a damp backpack in his left paw. He looked between them and gave her a little smile. Judy gently nodded for him to approach. He nodded back and slowly stepped to the kit's right. The little one's ears lifted. He pried his teary face away from Judy.

Nick smiled warmly at him. And then blinked out a raindrop that splattered over his left eye. "Told ya. Rain really goes for the eyes."

Mikey managed a little smile. "Yeah, rain is mean like that."

"Yes, it is. And I think you lost this." He gently passed the backpack to him.

The little fox accepted the wet backpack and clutched it to his stomach. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, how about we get out of here? It's not gonna help any of us, if we all get the sniffles."

The fox kit tried to nod. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Judy soothed, brushing the back of his head a little more. "We want to help you, that's all. I'm not going to take you away."

Nick flashed her a worried frown. Judy shook her head. Nick nodded and resumed a supportive smile. "Yeah, we're here to help." He blinked out another drop. "See? The rain is being so mean to me, Judy. Mikey's a smart kid."

The fox kit moved to slip the backpack over his shoulders, only for it to fall out of his grip. Judy caught it and gently slipped it back on. Mikey smiled appreciatively at her, although the corner of his mouth still shook a little. The rabbit patted his head. "Yeah, the rain is pretty mean to poor Nick. He never catches a break."

Nick shrugged and chuckled. "Just my luck." He gestured towards the parked produce truck. "How about we give you a ride back home? At least it'll give us a chance to get out of the mean rain."

Mikey's eyes drifted towards the truck. His mouth curled further. "I can't go back. I can't go back." His eyes shot down to his feet. "I'm sorry."

Judy lightly squeezed his shoulder and got down on one knee. Mikey slowly leaned up to meet her gaze. "What happened, Mikey? You can tell us."

Nick knelt down to join her, setting his paw on her back. "Yeah, we're here to help. What happened?"

Mikey's head dipped back towards the ground. Tears welled in his eyes, and his tail coiled around his ankles. A raindrop slid down from the tip of his right ear to his left eye. He angrily wiped it away with the back of his clenched paw.

Nick nodded. "Yeah, we really need to get out of the rain. Come on, we don't have to go anywhere. Let's just get you where it's dry, okay? Where you can warm up a little. Sound good?"

The little fox managed a little, cautious nod. "Okay."

Judy rose to her feet and patted his back. "Yeah, let's get out of the rain. For Nick's sake."

Nick faked a sneeze into his paw. "I'm glad you're looking out for me, Mama Doe."

She gave him a brief, annoyed stare, before turning back to Mikey. The little kit took another long look at the produce truck, his fingers digging into the backpack. Nick patted Mikey's shoulder and held out his other paw. After a moment, Mikey weakly nodded and passed his backpack to the older fox. Nick accepted it, glanced at Judy, and extended his arm in a Ladies-First gesture. The rabbit lightly smiled and waited until Mikey took his first few steps towards the truck.

Aside from Nick's right foot hooking an embedded rock, the walk back was silent and uneventful. The little kit paused a moment to look up and down the road. When he apparently didn't spot anything troubling, he climbed into the cab. Nick shook off a coat of rainwater from the backpack and handed it over. Mikey accepted it with a little smile. Giving the little kit one in turn, Nick closed to the door and quickly resumed shielding Judy's head from the rain. She chuckled and waved him back to the passenger's side door, before climbing in.

Mikey closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. When they reopened, Judy Hopps–the real Judy Hopps–sat to his left and reached for the ignition. His eyes widened. Her ears twitched and she quickly started the truck. But before the little kit could panic, her paw visibly reached for the heater and turned it on. A low, but suitably warm waft of air brushed over Mikey. His eyes slowly reclosed as he slid further into the seat. His backpack slipped from his grip. The kit's eyes reopened.

"Whoops," Nick chuckled, gently pushing the backpack back into Mikey's paws. He climbed into his seat and closed the door. Another paw-shaped cluster of raindrops trailed into sickly fingers down the glass. "See, Carrots? You don't have to blast the truck with hot air. Us foxes are tough."

"And yet, you wanted to get out of the "mean rain"." Judy glanced down at Mikey, whose eyes started to follow her paws. She smiled and rested them in her lap, visibly keeping them away from the steering wheel. "Do you feel a little better, now?"

The kit looked at her. "Yeah, I feel a little better, Miss Hopps."

"Call me Judy. "Miss Hopps" is what my boss calls me."

"I thought he called you just "Hopps"? Or "That Insufferable Rabbit"? Or how about, "She Whose Enthusiasm Will Drive Me to Madness"?"

"Watch it, Wilde. I could tell Mikey here some of the really embarrassing nicknames he's given you."

Nick's face slackened in mock horror. "You wouldn't."

She laughed and resisted reaching over to playfully slug his shoulder. Her eyes shifted back towards Mikey. The kit's were focused on her paws, until he realized she was watching. He quickly buried his muzzle against his damp backpack. And then pulled away with a bent leaf now affixed to his nose.

Noticing the way the little fox's eyes kept locking onto his partner's paws, Nick leaned over and peeled the leaf from Mikey's face. The kit smiled appreciatively at the older fox and shifted the backpack into his lap. He fumbled a little with the zipper, until it shot up. A crushed cardboard box popped out and landed into Nick's lap. The kit frowned.

Nick examined the box, and then smiled. Although creases and stains tried their best to obscure it, he knew a box of blueberry-flavored Pup-Tarts when he saw it. "Good choice, Mikey. I really loved these, when I was a kit like you."

Mikey let out an embarrassed, little laugh and collected the crushed box. He carefully opened the flap and pulled out one of the silvery packets. Seemed intact enough. He carefully pushed it back inside. "Yeah, I really, really like these. Blueberries are my favorite. But I like the S'mores ones, too."

"Can't go wrong with chocolate and marshmallows, can you, Carrots?"

"Not at all," Judy replied. Keeping her paws atop her lap, she closed her eyes and tried to figure out how they might coax Mikey to tell them what happened. And why someone would tell him that she'd take him away from his family. She frowned. No, don't start. He's a scared child. And you can't help him, if you just make him even more afraid. The rabbit reopened her eyes and lifted her paws to brush her drooping ears.

Mikey's eyes once again followed her paws. Judy slowly set them back into her lap. To her surprise, he smiled. "Your ears look really pretty, when they lie down like that."

"That's what I tell her all the time," Nick added, placing one paw over his heart. "But she's too modest to accept my humble praise of her unearthly beauty."

Judy once again resisted the urge to reach over and slug him. Instead, she gave Mikey a little smile. "Thank you, Mikey. That's really sweet."

The kit nodded. "You're welcome, Miss Hop…Judy." He wrung his paws over the crushed Pup-Tarts box. "My Mom says I shouldn't call grownups by their first name."

"Your mother's raising you right. But in this case, it's perfectly cool to call her Judy. And I'm Nick."

The kit laughed. "Okay, Nick. Okay, Judy. If you say it's okay." His smile steadily dropped. His paws followed suit, nearly flipping the Pup-Tarts box over. He quickly caught it and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to run away…" Mikey's muzzle immediately snapped shut and pressed down into his backpack.

Nick and Judy glanced at each other, and shared a nod. He stretched out his arms and patiently waited. Judy shut off the heater, killed the ignition, and returned her paws to her lap. Mikey slowly lifted his head and looked between them. The older fox and the rabbit offered gentle smiles, but said nothing. The kit's muzzle sank back towards the floor. When they still didn't say anything, he sighed and clutched the sides of his head. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry…"

"It's okay," Nick soothed. "At least you're nice and dry, now."

Mikey's attempted smile faltered. "I shouldn't have run away, but…" His ears folded to his skull. "I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry…"

"We understand," Judy said, softly.

The little kit raised his head and faced her. The rabbit held her gentle smile. His eyes threatened to water. She fought every urge to brush his tears away, when his eyes locked back onto her paws. "It's okay, Mikey. We're here to help you. That's all we're here for."

The Pup-Tarts box almost slipped from his paws, once more. Mikey pulled it to his chest, and then handed it to Nick. He reached into his backpack with his left paw, which froze. The kit turned back to Judy. "You're really not gonna take me away?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm not. No one's gonna take you away."

Mikey took a deep breath and slowly pulled out a curled baggie. After another deep breath, he slowly unfurled it. Judy and Nick's eyes slowly widened. Inside the baggie, several bent, blue-violet petals pressed against the plastic. Keeping his eyes directed towards the floor, he slowly lifted the baggie for them to see. His eyes began to water.

"I'm really sorry. I didn't know these flowers were bad. I'm really, really sorry. I didn't mean to scare everybody. I'm really, really sorry."

Judy resisted pulling the kit into her arms and examined the baggie. No, her eyes weren't fooling her. Bent Night Howlers petals shifted across the plastic, the crushed innards of the flower joining suit. Mikey's arms shuddered. The rabbit glanced at Nick. The older fox stared hard at the baggie for a few seconds, before meeting her gaze. She nodded at him. Nick nodded back and, after setting the Pup-Tarts box to the floor, lifted the baggie from Mikey's paws. The little fox began to lean forward, knocking his backpack onto the gearshift.

She carefully caught the kit's arms and pulled him towards her. Mikey shut his eyes and pushed himself against her chest. "I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry! They told me to get one. I didn't want to scare everybody!"

"It's okay, Mikey. It'll be okay." She slowly brushed the back of Mikey's head and took another look at the baggie in Nick's fingers. "It'll be okay."

Her vulpine partner narrowed his eyes and visibly struggled to hold back a growl. His green eyes met with her purple, and then looked down at the crying child. He sealed away his teeth, set the baggie on his lap, and closed his eyes. For a few seconds, a shadowy figure loomed over him. His claws scraped against the door handle. He shook his head and pulled his right paw into his lap. The shadowy figure broke away, revealing–

"I'm sorry! I'm really sorry!"

"We know, Mikey. We know," Judy soothed.

Nick reopened his eyes and turned to the kit in his lapine partner's arms. "It'll be okay, Mikey. You're not in any trouble. We just wanna know what happened. We're here to help you."

Mikey slowly pulled away from Judy's chest, his brown eyes glistening. "I'm not in trouble? But I scared everybody. And I didn't want to scare everybody. I'm sorry."

Nick rested his paw on Mikey's shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. "We're here to help you, Mikey. You're not in trouble. We just wanna know what happened. That way, we can help you." His face eased into a small, but sympathetic smile. "What we don't know, that scares us. So, it's better that we do know. Does that make sense?"

The little kit managed a nod. "Yeah, I guess so. I'm sorry, Nick. I didn't want to scare everybody."

Nick waved his right paw. "Don't worry about it, Mikey; I know you didn't. Believe me, I know what that's like." He spotted Judy's concerned look at the corner of his vision. With a reaffirming nod, he faced them both. "Trust me."

Mikey's head tilted. "You do?"

The older fox chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, I do. We still wanna help you, but we won't make you to tell us what happened. But if you want us to help, help us by letting us know, okay?"

"Help, help, help," Judy playfully chanted.

Nick faked an annoyed glare. "Sue me, I'm not a motivational speaker."

Mikey laughed a little. Nick smiled down at him. The little kit smiled back. "So, you really scared everyone?"

"Well, not everyone. But, yeah, I did scare someone, once." Nick sighed and stretched his arms. "Trust me, Mikey. I know exactly what you're going through."

---

The little fox barely stops himself from crying and screaming, as his feet skid over breaking chunks of dirt and loose tarmac. Pebbles and rough patches of dirt scratch his right arm. He shudders and flips onto his back, grunting as a larger rock digs into his left ear. He forces himself into a sitting position and quickly grips his sore right arm. No blood. Fur's still there. But it just stings so much. He grits his teeth and looks up. His mouth falls open.

The Stranger stands at the edge of the pit. They tilt their head, as if puzzled why this kit would be so stupid to fall right into such an obvious trap. One set of claws brush over their head. Teeth gnash at the back of his mind. He closes his eyes and wishes hard. When he reopens them, The Stranger is still there. They draw out their other set of claws and reach towards him, before recoiling back into its sickly body.

He clutches the side of his head and takes a couple steps back. His right foot hooks onto a rock. The little fox stumbles against one of the walls. He throws up his arms and digs his paws into the dirt. Specks drop onto his muzzle and into his eyes. He coughs and steps away from the wall, regripping his head with dusted fingers. The Stranger slowly slinks away from the edge of the pit, vanishing towards the tunnel entrance.

The little fox dashes for the other side of the pit, angrily kicking the stupid rock that made him stumble. He throws his arms around, knocking out a dirt clod that just barely misses his head. He pushes himself onto his tiptoes, gripping for anything and everything his claws can lock around. They scrape a piece of solid tarmac, only to slip. He collapses to the ground with a yelp. No, he can't be trapped! Back on his feet, he runs to the other side.

The Stranger returns, dragging their ugly claws behind them. And something else. Sounds a little heavy. The little fox freezes. In his mind, these claws drag another poor kit, snatching him helplessly by the neck. His right foot shoots backwards, but he can't run. The Stranger stops dragging their previous victim and extends their claws. A low, demonic grunt echoes into the pit, followed by a deathly wheeze. He is about to scream. Maybe if he does it loud enough, The Stranger will retreat!

But before he can, The Stranger drags their previous victim towards him. His muzzle clamps shut. He awaits the horrible sight of the beaten fox kit, showing him what fate has in store for him. His eyes briefly shut. For a few seconds, he sees his mother's smiling face. He shudders and fights the tears building in his eyes. The Stranger pauses, and then lifts something into the air. The little fox braces himself for the sight of his…backpack?"

The Stranger lowers the backpack as far into the pit as they can. He blinks. The backpack is still there. This has to be a trick. Still, he steps towards it, ready to snap his teeth. The Stranger leans a little closer. And…the shadows around their head break away.

He blinks, again. More shadows fall away, as his eyes finally adjust to the dark. At the edge of the pit, The Stranger bows their head. A pair of tired, but clearly mammalian eyes pierces through. They pull their free claws back, revealing a rough, but also clearly mammalian paw terminating with dull fingers. Another set grips the handle, still lowering it towards him. He blinks, once more–just to be sure. The clearly mammalian figure continues to patiently hold it.

With another cautious step forward, the little fox grips the backpack with his left paw. Feeling the weight shift around a bit, he grips it with his right. But as soon as both paws make contact, the backpack suddenly lifts into the air. His eyes shoot open. But before he can scream or tug himself free, the clearly mammalian creature gently lowers the backpack–and the terrified kit clinging to it–a couple feet away from the bit. And their free paw catches his shoulder.

"There we go."

The little fox almost jumps at the sound of their voice. The gnashing teeth and breaking bones disappear from his mind. When he looks up, he sees a pangolin glancing down into the pit. They yawn. Wait…the pangolin from the bus stop? The Stranger is just the pangolin from the bus stop? This whole time, he's been so scared of…oh, how stupid is he?

"Hey, hey, it's okay," the pangolin soothes, tenderly waving his free paw. "I know I gave you a real fright. Sorry 'bout that. I didn't wanna scare you."

The little fox coughs. The pangolin sets his backpack down to his right. After he grunts and digs his claws into his stupid temples, the little fox's paws fall away and reach for the pack. He looks up at the pangolin. And the pangolin, despite his tired eyes and paw clutching his tired chest, smiles back at him.

It takes a few seconds, but the little fox chokes out a quiet, "Thank you."

The pangolin nods. "Welcome, kid. You're a fast one, you know that?"

The kit starts to smile, until he remembers swinging the backpack into the pangolin's face. His ears drop. "I'm really, really sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

The former Stranger shakes his free paw and head. "Don't worry about it. Like I said, I gave you a real fright. I'm the one who's sorry." He covers another, heavier cough. "Phew, I haven't moved that fast in ages. It's like when I was a kid trying for the track team."

A little smile works its way across the kit's muzzle. "Were you really fast?"

The pangolin chuckles. "No, I just thought it would look really cool. But it helped, tonight."

The little smile broke into a frown. "I'm really, really sorry."

"Don't be. I didn't want you to get hurt."

"You got hurt, instead."

The pangolin laughs. "It's fine. Getting hit with a backpack is hardly the worst thing that's happened to me." He sighs and tucks his paws against his chest. "Whoo, that was quite the jog." Once his breathing steadies, the pangolin shakes his head. "I'm sorry, how rude of me. My name's Saul."

The little fox blinks. Saul doesn't transform back into The Stranger, with claws that scrape through the darkness. He inspects the fabric where the stupid strap tore off. When he looks back at Saul, the pangolin extends his right paw. The stupid strap dangles and drips between his fingers. He accepts it. "Thank you."

"No problem. Thought you might wanna sew that back on."

"I dunno how to sew. My mom…" The kit's mouth clamps shut. His right paw shakes, almost dropping the stupid strap.

Saul, thankfully, doesn't ask. Instead, he walks over to and leans on the nearby sawhorse. "Gotta be thankful for the little things, huh?"

The little fox nods. Hearing the pangolin's exhausted breathing return, he collects the backpack and slowly walks towards the sawhorse. "Thank you, Saul. I'm really sorry." After a pause, he adds, "My name's Nick."

"Nick, huh? Good to know. I had a cousin named Nick. He wanted to build bridges when he grew up." Saul holds out his arms. "Really big ones, next to waterfalls and over rushing rivers."

The little fox…Nick tries to picture one of these big bridges. He looks out the window of a nice car. To his right, a massive waterfall blooms and descends past the dark red railing. He rolls down the window. The cool mist trails over, lightly dusting his face and closed eyes.

"Come on, Nicky. You're gonna catch the sniffles if you keep doing that."

Nick laughs and reopens his eyes. He sees his mother behind the wheel, laughing and shaking her head. The smile droops from his face. The waterfall and bridge peel away, returning the dark tunnel and rain still falling outside. He leans against the sawhorse and coughs twice. An annoying drop slides down his right ear and lands right between his eyes. He groans and rubs it away.

"You all right? Not coming down with something, are you?"

Nick shakes his head. "No, I'm a fox. Foxes are tough. Foxes don't get sick." And, as if to prove him wrong, he fails to clamp his muzzle shut before he sneezes.

The pangolin laughs. "I'm sure you are. You made it this far, in the cold rain and in this dark tunnel. Even with that broken backpack. I'm sure you're really tough."

Nick tries to laugh with him, but only a choking sound comes out. He frowns. "I'm really, really sorry."

"It's okay, Nick. Don't worry about it. But, if you don't mind my asking, what is a little fox like you doing out so late?"

Nick's claws dig into the backpack. His mother's horrified face from that night projects, eyes flared with worry and paws shielding her face. He angrily kicks at the ground, skidding a rock a few feet ahead of them.

Saul frowns. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little concerned"

"Why?" Nick asks, a little harsher than intended.

The pangolin stifles a yawn and turns to the kit. "Because you look really scared. And because I don't want anything bad to happen to kits like you."

"Nothing bad happened to me!" Nick snaps his teeth.

Saul slowly raises his paws, his eyes jumping. "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you."

The little fox pulls back and covers his mouth. "I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry."

"Don't worry about it. You're cold, scared, and probably a little tired. And I sure didn't help with that."

Nick slides his paws down. "You did help me. Thank you."

"Well, I couldn't leave you down there, now could I?"

"No. Even though I could've gotten out, myself."

The pangolin smirks. "I'm sure you would've. I just thought you might want your backpack back."

"Thank you. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Now, I'm sure we're gonna be able to stay here all night. So, where were you gonna go from here?"

The little fox's claws dig into the good strap. He looks over his shoulder. The darkness stretches farther down the tunnel. And then he remembers the pit. How many more of those are waiting for him to stupidly slide and fall into? He pries away one of his paws and pinches the bridge of his muzzle. No, he can't go back. He can't…not after…

"You okay, Nick?"

The little fox doesn't answer him. After a few seconds, for reasons he can't fully understand, Nick unzips his pack and retrieves the photo. Another ugly white crease shoots across the bottom right corner, carving into his mother's legs. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. And then his eyes shoot open, when the photo slips from his fingers.

Saul extends his paw and catches it between two fingers. "Whoops, don't wanna lose this." He hands it back to Nick with the blank side up. "Looks important."

The little fox takes the photo and holds it to his chest. "It's really important. I'm sorry; I really need to go."

"Where you heading off to?"

Nick's eyebrow lifts. "Why?"

"Well, I don't have anywhere to be, right now. And you're probably feeling a little tired, aren't you?"

On cue, the kit yawns. "Maybe a little, but I can't stay here. I have to go."

"I hear you."

Nick's ears drop. "You're not gonna ask me why I'm going away?"

Saul shrugs. "Should I?"

"Well…aren't you supposed to? Grownups always ask me why I do anything."

"Then I guess I'm the first grownup who won't." Saul drums his claws. "I just wanna make sure you're all right."

"Yeah, I'm all right. I just have to go." Nick glances back at the darkness of the tunnel. His eyes still can't fully adjust. The stupid tunnel must go around a curve, or something. If on;y those stupid construction workers left a light behind. He chokes back an annoyed growl. No, he has to be strong. He has to keep going. That's just the way it is. So she won't be scared or hurt, ever again. So…

No…

The little fox shudders and dips his head. His eyes clench shut, but it's not enough to hold back the tears. Nick digs his claws into his temples and slowly falls to his knees. A bitter growl strains through his locked teeth. The tears trail and burn down his cheeks. Groaning, he slams his paws down. Suddenly, remembering Saul's still there, he tenses and pushes himself back onto his feet.

Saul keeps his distance, still drumming his claws. And he's still not asking Nick what happened, like grownups usually do. The little fox dusts off the clinging pebbles and powdered tarmac from his palms. When Saul still doesn't ask, he collects his backpack and takes another look down the curving tunnel. He slides his right foot forward. It slips over a rock, nearly making him lose his balance.

"Need some help?"

Nick steadies himself, thankful Saul can't see his worried face. "No, I just…I just…" The tears return. He angrily rubs the back of his right arm across his eyes. "I don't need any more help." He pauses and frowns guiltily, still with his back turned to the pangolin. "Sorry. I'm really, really glad you helped me, but I have to go."

"Well, if you do need some help, I'll come with. I don't have anything better to do." The pangolin yawns.

Nick's face scrunches, as he fights the urge to yawn, too. "You should go back home. It's really cold and wet out here."

"I'd like to, Nick, but I can't."

The kit turns back. "Why not?"

Saul smiles sadly. "Don't got a home."

Nick's face sinks. "I'm sorry."

The pangolin raises his hands. "Don't worry about it. I'm a strong Prey, just like you're a strong Predator. Rain and dark tunnels don't bother me."

This doesn't relieve the guilty frown on Nick's muzzle. "But…don't you…I mean, I have a home…" His head dips. "I had a home." His eyes lift, expecting Saul to finally question him. But the pangolin says nothing. Sighing, Nick wrings his paws together. "But I can't go home."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

What's Saul's problem? Why isn't he asking why Nick can't go back home, like any other grownup would? The little fox angrily stomps his right foot and growls. "I scared my mom! I really, really scared her! I don't wanna scare her, ever again!" He clasps his paws over his muzzle, as his anguished cries echo through the tunnel.

Saul simply nods. "I understand. I wouldn't wanna scare my mom, either. Dunno how yours will feel about this."

Nick glares, new tears threatening to pour. "My mom will feel better! She won't have to be scared, just because I–because I got hurt by some stupid, really, really stupid people!" 'Prey' hovers on the tip of his tongue. But Saul is Prey. And unlike those stupid Junior Ranger Scouts, Saul's not mean. And he doesn't carry a stupid muzzle. "So, she won't be scared, ever again!"

"How will you know that, for sure?"

The little fox's face slackens. "What?"

Saul sighs. "How will you know your mom won't be scared, ever again? How can you, if you're not there to see her?"

Nick clicks his teeth and jabs his finger at the pangolin, but nothing comes out. His finger curls and his arm falls to his side. He tries again, with another finger jab just as short-lived. "I just know! I know she won't be scared, ever again! Because I won't scare her by…" He takes a deep breath and fights back tears. "I won't scare her, again, because I won't…I won't…"

The pangolin steps away from the sawhorse. "Well, I dunno about you, but I'm rpetty sure she'd be really scared. And you wouldn't know it."

Nick shakes his head. "How would you know?! You're not there to see her, either!"

Saul shrugs. "She's not my mom."

Once again, the little fox is at a loss for words. His paw weakly jabs at Saul, before grabbing the backpack. No, he's not supposed to stay here. But Saul's right. How will he know, if he's not there? How will he…?

The pangolin carefully steps over and pats the little fox's back. Nick considers breaking into a run, before Saul can say anything else that makes him feel stupid. But, instead, he just stands there. "I just don't wanna scare her."

"I know you don't. But you won't know, if you're not there."

Nick sighs, pulls the backpack to his stomach, and closes his eyes. His mother stands a couple feet away, holding out her arms. He slowly walks towards her, his head dipped like an ashamed pup. She tenderly leans forward and hugs him. He presses his teary face into her right arm. She strokes the back of his head. When he reopens his eyes, Nick looks towards the entrance of the tunnel.

"You feeling okay, Nick?"

He nods. "Yeah, I'm okay. And you're right. I don't know how I would know, if she ever got scared again, because I won't be there."

Saul smiles. "So, what should we do, now?"

Nick looks at him. "We?"

"Sure, Nick, I wanna help."

The little fox stares at the ground. His mother's frightened face flashes against the dark. But soon, it becomes a warm smile, like when she said goodnight. And he won't know for sure, if she's never scared, ever again, if he's not there. There's only one way he can know for sure. "Saul?"

"Yeah?"

"I have to go home."

The pangolin chuckles. "Sure you can make it all the way back, in that cold rain?"

Nick smirks. "Of course I can. I'm a tough Predator. And…"he meekly adds, wringing his paws, "I could use your help."

"Thank goodness I'm a tough Prey, huh?"

Nick's smirk eases into a smile. "Yeah, a really tough Prey. Sorry about hitting you with my backpack."

Saul laughs. "Don't worry about it, Nick. Let's get you home."

---

Nick closed his eyes and took a deep breath. As Mikey finished his story, the little fox kit opened one of the silvery packets and nibbled on a Pup-Tart. He offered one to Judy, who accepted with a smile. Then he turned to Nick and gently nudged his shoulder with his free paw. The older fox opened his eyes and, with the most melodramatic wide eyes and smile, accepted the Pup-Tart. And took the first bite with as much gusto. "Mmhmm, this is heavenly. Has your family ever considered getting into the toaster pastry business, Carrots?"

Judy laughed. "That's more of Gideon's thing. But I'll make sure Mom and Dad pass the message along."

Nick polished off his Pup-Tart and licked the crumbs and blueberry flecks from his fingers. But the joy was short-lived, as he reminded himself of the details. He forced his right paw down where neither Judy nor Mikey could see it. Lest he begin clawing at the door handle. Or snap it off.

I told Dave and Bobby I really wanted to find something really awesome. They're my friends at school, and they always find really awesome stuff. Like this one time Bobby found this shiny old snakeskin. Or this other time, when Dave found this really fancy car part that looked like a rabbit with wings. I wanted to find something really awesome like that.

The mental image of a lamb and bunny matching Dave and Bobby's descriptions donned Junior Ranger Scout uniforms, approaching Mikey with a rusted muzzle. Nick shook his head. Knock it off, Wilde. Not every Prey is like that. Still, as Mikey continued, that unpleasant life chapter played out a little more.

So, I found this flower, once, on the side of the road. I know flowers aren't really awesome most of the time, but this one had a really nice color. It was blue and purple at the same time. It looked really nice. I thought maybe Dave and Bobby might like it. It was a really, really nice color. I thought it would be awesome.

Judy quietly thanked the heavens the Night Howler didn't trigger the poor kit. She slowly kneaded her temples and glanced at Nick. Her vulpine partner closed his eyes and curled his right paw against his leg. The rabbit frowned and reached over Mikey's head to squeeze Nick's shoulders. His eyes slowly reopened. Mikey paused and frowned. Nick smiled at Judy and shook his head. Reassured, Mikey pulled out another silvery packet.

Dave and Bobby didn't think it was really awesome. But then Bobby really looked at it and said this flower scares bugs. I don't know how it scares bugs, but I thought that made it kinda awesome. Not as awesome as those plants that eat flies. (Judy and Nick shared a chuckle, when Mikey snapped his teeth at a nonexistent fly.) And they did think the color was kinda awesome. But there weren't any bugs around, because there was a lot of rain, so I just put in this bag. And I washed my hands, because it was kinda dirty.

Mikey broke out another pair of Pup-Tarts, accidentally cracking one in half. He offered the halves to Nick and Judy, who once again accepted. And, in Nick's case, treated the affair with more melodramatic flair and a swish of his right arm. Still, despite his humored declaration of love for blueberries, Judy noticed the way his claws dug into his right palm. His green eyes briefly met with her purple. His face shifted into an apologetic frown. The rabbit smiled and nudged his shoulder. Mikey laughed, until his eyes settled on the baggie at Nick's feet.

So we went to Dave's house, because he said he wanted to show us something else he found, last night. It was probably something awesome, like that rabbit thing with wings. But I didn't see it, because Dave's mom saw me holding the flower. She asked me why I had it. I told her I got it to show Dave and Bobby. She really liked the color, until she really looked at it. I didn't wanna scare her with it. I didn't know I was gonna scare her with it. But then she screamed at me.

When Mikey's eyes pulled away, Nick contemplated stomping the baggied Night Howler to paste. No, stop that. You're just gonna scare them both. And Mikey doesn't need that, right now. His right foot relented, although his toe claws still prodded at it. In the meantime, the poor kit pressed the balls of his palms against his teary eyes. Judy tenderly brushed his shoulder. Mikey leaned against her and took a moment to catch his breath. Nick pinched the bridge of his muzzle and tried hard not to growl.

She screamed really, really loud. I didn't know why she was scared of that flower. I tried to tell her I was sorry and that I didn't wanna scare her. But she grabbed the flower and threw it at the wall. Dave and Bobby came back, but Dave's mom told them they had to stay away from me. I tried to ask what I did wrong. I told her I was really, really sorry. But she still told them to stay away from me, and then told me I was trying to hurt them. But I wouldn't hurt Dave and Bobby! They're my friends!

Mikey pulled his backpack to his chest. Nick's right foot hovered over the baggie. With a stifled growl, he carefully picked it up and curled it snugly into his right paw. It took everything not to crush it. When he turned back towards Mikey and Judy, the little kit buried his face into the top flap. Judy resumed brushing his shoulder.

But Dave and Bobby were scared of me, too. Dave's mom said it was because of that flower, 'cuz it made Predators like me go bad. It made Predators like me scary. I didn't know that flower did that! Bobby just said it scares bugs! I didn't wanna scare anybody, and I didn't wanna be scary! I just wanted to show Dave and Bobby something awesome! But Dave's mom kept telling me I wanted to them hurt them. I didn't wanna hurt them! And then she told me Judy Hopps should take me away from my family, get me away before I hurt anybody. She told me that!

The first time she heard those words, Judy felt like slamming her forehead against the steering wheel. As Mikey still cried into his backpack, the gray rabbit's stomach twisted into a knot. Nick watched her, silently cursing Dave's mom for dragging his partner into this, and took the opportunity to gently squeeze Judy's shoulder. She managed a little smile and squeezed his fingers, in turn. Nick flashed his usual grin. Judy nodded and pulled her fingers away, to rest atop Mikey's head. The kit pried his face from the backpack, tears still trailing down his cheeks.

So I ran away. I didn't wanna scare them, again. I took that flower with me, because I didn't wanna scare them, more. Dave and Bobby didn't say goodbye. They just looked really, really scared. I scared them, but I didn't wanna. I didn't wanna hurt them, either! So I just ran away. I had to. I had to run away, so I wouldn't scare everybody, anymore. I had to run away. I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry…

Mikey stuffed the Pup-Tarts box back into his pack. The crushed cardboard gave out, spilling one of the remaining packets. Nick caught it with his free paw and set it into Mikey's. The little fox slowly pushed it back into the box. "I'm really, really sorry."

Nick, still trying hard not to obliterate the Night Howler in his right paw, shook his head. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Mikey. You didn't mean to scare everybody." He uncurled his fingers and examined the bent blue-violet petals. His paw trembled. Don't start. That kid's mother panicked. Yes, she scared Mikey, but she didn't try to muzzle him. She just got him scared. But you'd think everyone around here would know about… He sighed and eased the baggie back into his fingers. "It's not your fault."

This didn't relieve Mikey's frown. "I'm still really, really sorry." He turned to Judy. "I'm really, really sorry I thought you were gonna take me away from my family. I didn't wanna scare you."

Judy patted the kit's head. "Don't worry about it, Mikey. I'm not going to take you away. But we're glad you told us, because now we can help you."

"How can you help me?"

The rabbit offered him a sympathetic smile. "Well, that depends. What do you think we should do?"

Mikey's ears flattened. "I don't wanna scare anybody else."

Judy nodded. "I know, and that's good of you, Mikey. But, now that we know what happened, what do you think we should do?"

The little fox stared at the floor. "I…I don't know. I don't wanna scare anybody else. And I don't think Dave and Bobby and Dave's mom wanna see me, again. They were all really, really scared." His head suddenly hiked back in a violent sneeze. His eyes were close to tearing up, once more. "I wanna go home."

Judy's sympathetic smile grew. "Don't worry, Mikey. We can get you home, if that's what you want us to do."

He considered this, and then nodded. "Yes, please. I just wanna go home."

"Such a polite gentlemammal," Nick mused.

When Mikey's face drooped, he held up the baggie and tilted his head towards it. Judy gestured for him to hold onto it, and quickly resumed the pleasant Mama Doe face when Mikey lifted his eyes to the road. Nick tucked the baggie back into his palm. Let's just get the kit home. His mother's probably worried sick about him. His heart sank into the vice grip. He cast a worried look at Judy, who was thankfully occupied with brushing Mikey's ears. You'll tell her. Just not now. Now's not a good time.

Still, a ghostly kit running in the rain danced before his eyes. Not now.

After checking with Mikey a second time, and learning his home was en route to Hopps Farm, Judy started the ignition and pulled back onto the road. The rain blurred the horizon ahead into a flurry of grays, greens, and browns melting down the windshield. Groaning, she quickly set the wipers. Mikey chuckled and considered another Pup-Tart. He glanced towards Nick. A frown crossed his muzzle at the sight of the baggie with the scary flower, still hooked tightly in his right paw. "Nick?"

The older fox broke away from the ghostly kit darting into the rain. "Hmmm?"

"You really, really scared everybody?" Mikey asked, quietly. His eyes looked over his shoulder at Judy's erect ears.

Deciding to spare the kit further paranoia about Judy's impeccable hearing, Nick whispered, "Yeah, I did, once. When I was about your age, I ran away, too, because I scared someone." Guess now's an all right time. And Carrots'll grill you later. Might as well sorta confess.

Mikey frowned. "I'm sorry."

Nick shrugged. "Don't worry about it. The important thing is that I didn't stay gone." Don't have to give him your whole life story. I'm sure there's gonna be a movie that'll do it for you, after you write that tell-all book. Narrated by Jason Vulpman.

The little kit paused. "Wait, you said you scared everybody?"

"And I did. Everybody who paid attention."

Mikey snickered a bit, before clapping a paw over his mouth. "I'm sorry."

"Not a problem, Mikey. Not a problem."

As the kit resettled between them, Nick glanced out the window. Fortunately, no phantom fox child from the past sped into the soaked grass. He stole another look at the baggied Night Howler. The stupid thing felt a little too warm against his palm. Ears setting to his head, Nick watched green fields give way to another long stretch of brown. He considered rolling down the window and throwing the Night Howler into the mud. For once in your life, please act professional. The older fox sighed and relaxed his fingers.

Once that riveting imagery gave way to another field of green, he looked at Judy. The kit offered her another half of another broken Pup-Tart. She slid one paw from the wheel to accept it, briefly giving Mikey an appreciative smile. 'You know, Carrots, I think he's trying to bribe us with sweets', hung off the tip of his tongue. Instead, he pressed his cheek into the cool window and examined an oncoming row of trees stretching into the distance.

Mikey turned his head and screamed.

Nick barely had time to peel from the window as Judy pulled over. Mikey still shouted and jabbed his finger towards something at the far right. As soon as Judy cracked open her door, Mikey clambered over her legs and ran out into the rain. Nick flung his door open and dropped out. The kit darted into the field, nearly sliding over slick patches of uprooted grass. Before Nick could follow, Judy cut ahead, expertly treading around the little obstacles left in Mikey's wake. The older fox shook his head, closed the driver's side door, and pursued.

Ahead, Mikey slowed to a stop, his right foot hooking and nearly sinking into collapsing dirt. He pulled himself free. His eyes widened when a familiar, pained bleat called out. A few feet away, a lamb clawed desperately at the grass clumps around him. And nearby, a bunny tried to keep himself from sinking further into the mud. And somewhere ahead of them, footsteps and voices echoed. Mikey shook his head and walked forward, blinking out a raindrop that struck his left eye. The bleating intensified, and the bunny urgently grabbed at the dipping hooves.

Mikey stepped forward, anchoring his left foot onto solid ground. Bobby paused and turned to him. Dave made another desperate bid to dig his hooves in, coughing and spitting clumps of mud that broke over his muzzle. Planting his left foot hard against a rock lodged among the grass, Mikey leaned forward and grabbed Dave's right hoof. The lamb bleated and shuddered. "It's okay, it's okay! It's me!"

Bobby turned to Mikey, his rain-soaked ears sagging against the back of his neck. "Mikey?"

"Yeah, it's me! Come on, we gotta help him! Dave, stop moving!"

The bunny nodded and cautiously stepped over towards Mikey. In the pit, the lamb stopped shuddering. "Mikey?" he coughed, trailing mud down his chin.

"Yeah, it's me. Don't get scared." Mikey steadied his left foot and tugged harder on Dave's right hoof. Bobby shifted his feet and pulled on Dave's left hoof. Mikey's right foot shot forward, almost dragging him down. The little fox grunted and tugged harder. Dave pushed himself up, clawing at Mikey's chest. The lamb slowly, but surely shifted towards the top. Mikey laughed, despite his friend's digging fingers, and gave another sharp tug with Bobby.

And then screamed as his right foot shot down, knocking Bobby into the mud behind them.

Mikey tried to throw himself backwards, when his fingers slid up Dave's hoof. He tightened his grip and dug his left foot harder into the ground. His ankle struck the rock. The little fox yipped. His right foot sank. His fingers started to lose their grip. The little sheep bleated louder, his left hoof disappearing into the mud. He screamed, again, as his left foot gave out.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around his stomach and pulled him back. And then another strong pair reached over and caught Mikey's arms. His left foot touched solid ground. Mikey closed his eyes and pulled as hard as he could. And, with a grateful cry, Dave slid towards them. Keeping his fingers around Dave's hoof, the paws gripping his arms carefully broke away and pulled Dave towards them. The lamb's eyes met with the little fox's. His face immediately broke. "I'm really, really sorry."

Mikey smiled. "It's okay, Dave. I didn't want you to get hurt."

The lamb smiled back at him. And then stared in awe. "Judy Hopps?"

Bobby looked up. "Judy Hopps?"

Nick helped the bunny back onto his feet and smirked at her. "They really should just crown you."

Judy laughed and playfully nudged him back. And when Dave began to slide back, she stretched her arm to catch him. The lamb pressed against her for a moment, and then immediately recoiled. "I'm sorry!"

She flicked off the mud clinging to her shirt. "Don't worry about it. Now, what were you two doing out here?"

The bunny and lamb looked at each other, and then at their vulpine friend. "We were trying to find Mikey," Dave spoke up. "Because–"

"Dave! David, where are you?!"

The five turned their attention to a ewe marching through the mud. She paused every few steps to free herself. Dave held out his arms and was about to run to her, when he remembered the sinkhole. He retreated, sticking by Judy's side. Some of the lingering mud clinging to his face melted in the rain. Bobby walked up and patted Dave's shoulder. Mikey smiled and followed suit.

Soon, the other four stepped back, giving Dave's mother a chance to embrace him. Mikey quickly pulled away from his friends and ducked behind Nick. The older fox gently brushed his head, while the ewe checked over her son. "Dave, oh my God, what happened?"
"I'm sorry, Mom. I'm really, really sorry. I thought I saw Mikey over her, because you said he might be hiding in the mud. And then I fell into the mud and…" He shivered.

The ewe cleaned as much of the mud from her son's clothes and wool as she could. When he stopped shivering, she looked up and almost gasped. "Judy Hopps, and Mr. Wilde? It's an honor to meet you both. Thank you for saving my son."

"Actually," Dave spoke up, "they helped, but Mikey was the one who saved me."

"Yeah, Mikey's the one who saved him," Bobby chimed in.

Her eyes widened. "You found him?"

Dave and Bobby shook their heads. "Mikey found us. I was stuck, and he found us, and he helped Bobby get me out. But Miss Hopps and Mr. Wilde helped him help us, too," her son informed her.

She looked around. "Where is Mikey?"

The little kit dug his claws into Nick's leg. The older fox slowly pried Mikey's paw away. "He's right here. And your son's correct. Mikey's the one who spotted him. We just followed." He slowly sidled to the right, revealing Mikey to her.

The little fox gave Nick and Judy a worried look. They smiled back, reassuringly. His friends did, too. With a fearful little inhale, he turned to Dave's mother. "You were looking for me?"

"Of course I was." The ewe frowned heavily. "I'm really sorry about the absolutely horrible way I treated you. I shouldn't have done that."

Mikey's face sank. "I shouldn't have brought that flower that scared you and Dave and Bobby."

The ewe crouched and rested her hooves on Mikey's shoulders. "No, I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I'm sorry I said all those horrible things to you. I know you'd never hurt Dave. You're a good kid. I just got scared."

"I'm really, really sorry. I didn't wanna scare you."

"It's okay, Mikey." Dave's mother embraced him. Mikey returned it.

"Michael?!" a voice called from behind.

Mikey's ears perked up. "Mom?"

A vixen stepped into the mud towards them, growling a little as her feet repeatedly sank. She threw out her arms and, upon reaching solid ground, ran to her child. Mikey slipped away from the ewe and ran to his mother. They embraced, laughing and crying and telling the other they were sorry. The vice grip around Nick's heart completely loosened. His muzzle twitched.

"It's okay. You're not any less of a tough fox, if you cry," Judy teased.

"I'm not gonna cry, Carrots. This weather's just bad for my sinuses."

"Okay, Slick, I believe you."

"Thank God someone does."

Judy giggled and interlocked their fingers. After a comforting squeeze, they watched as Mikey tearfully explained everything to his mother. "I was really, really scared, so I was running. And then I almost fell down this really high place, but Judy saved me from falling! She's really strong. And Nick helped me, too."

"Yeah, I carried his backpack," Nick whispered.

The rabbit stifled a giggle. "You did great, Nick."

As Mikey finished his story, his mother embraced him a second time. Nick closed his eyes and sighed. Fortunately, the ghostly kit from the past didn't return. Guess I'm not going crazy. Yet. He reopened his eyes, in time for Mikey to run towards and embrace them. "Thank you, Judy. Thank you, Nick. Thank you for helping me."

Nick smiled and patted Mikey's back with his free paw. He's a good kit. "That's what we're here for, Mikey. Well, she's here to save children. I'm just here for moral support."

"You helped me pull his friend out of the mud."

"That was all you, Carrots. I was just there for show."

The vixen inspected the muddied lamb and wiped a cluster from his right cheek. She then carved off a large chunk of mud from the bunny's back. And then her eyes met with the ewe's. Dave's mother directed her gaze to the ground. The vixen gave her a small smile. "Thank you." And then she turned to Judy and Nick. "And thank you both for finding my son."

"I wouldn't have, if it wasn't for Nick. He spotted Mikey, first. He's just selling himself short, again." Judy nudged his shoulder with her free paw. "Humble fox."

Nick couldn't resist putting on the most grateful, wide-eyed smile he could manage. "I actually helped, Miss Hopps? It's…it's a dream come true!" Of course, his doe-eyed kit look soured when raindrops struck both eyes. "We probably should get out of the rain."

"Because the rain's really mean to eyes," Mikey said.

Nick chuckled. "Yes, it is. But we probably should get your stuff, first. Allow me. Miss Hopps needs a break after her brave acts of heroism."

Before Judy could retort, Dave and Bobby walked up to them. "Thank you for helping me and Dave and Mikey," the bunny said.

"Yeah, you guys are awesome!" the lamb added.

"See, Nick?" Judy lightly ribbed him. "You deserve some credit, too."

"Indeed, I do." He gently tugged Judy's paw. "Now, let's get out of this rain–"

"–before we all get the sniffles?"

"Really, Carrots?"

"You said it, yourself. I'm never gonna let you live that down."

"So you aren't, Mama Doe." Nick smiled at Mikey. "We should get your stuff. Don't wanna leave the Pup-Tarts behind. They won't last the drive back to her parents' place."

Mikey laughed. "Yeah, I need my stuff. Thank you."

"No problem, Mikey. We were here to help."

"Thank you, anyway. I'm sorry I really, really scared you."

"Don't worry about. Everything's all right."

"Yes, everything's all right now, Mikey."

The little fox smiled and started towards the truck. Nick chuckled and pulled Judy with him. "He really wants those Pup-Tarts back."

Judy chuckled and looked over, as the little fox's mother approached. The vixen smiled warmly at her. "I'm very grateful."

The rabbit gave a quick salute. "Just doing our job, ma'am. Even if we're out of uniform."

Nick nodded and checked on Mikey as they got closer. The kit watched his feet, expertly dodging several slick patches of unearthed grass and foot-trapping holes. He blinked. A green-eyed fox kit avoided the stupid cracks in the sidewalk. He sighed and shook his head, hoping Judy didn't notice. Guess you're not in the clear. Oh, well. At least Mikey's okay.

At the Hopps Family Farms truck, Nick retrieved Mikey's backpack and passed it to him. Then he saw the baggied Night Howler lying on the floor. Mikey did as well, staring at it for a fearful moment or two. Judy reached over and picked it up. "Don't worry about, Mikey. My family knows what to do with these. We'll make sure it doesn't scare anyone, again." She carefully pocketed it.

Mikey eased into a relieved smile. "Thank you."

"No problem. Now, you should get out of this rain. Do you need a ride?"

"No, we'll be fine," Mikey's mother spoke, setting her hand on her son's shoulder. "We all came in Melinda's car. Thank you both, again."

"You're very welcome, ma'am." Judy gave one more smile to Mikey. "You're a good kit."

Mikey beamed and broke away from his mother to hug her. And then he quickly hugged Nick, as well. The older fox swallowed the smart remark that came to mind and patted the kit's back. Fortunately, as Mikey pulled away and smiled at him, those brown eyes didn't turn green. "Thank you."

"No problem, Mikey."

And, with that, Mikey's mother lifted her son into the air and placed him atop her shoulders. He laughed and blinked against the rain. In the distance, Dave and Bobby excitedly called for him. The vixen laughed and began the walk back towards them. Mikey gave Nick and Judy one last wave and called back to his friends.

They waited until they could no longer see any of them, before stepping back into the cab. Judy lightly wrung out the water clinging to her ears. While Nick, hating the way his Pawaiian shirt adhered to the seat, looked sadly at his thoroughly soaked tail. "Well, I was right about one thing. My tail does feel like I'm dragging a wet sack around."

The rabbit giggled and gave his tail a light squeeze. "If it makes you feel better, I'll wring it out when we get back."

Nick tented his fingers. "Tempting. On the one paw, you're very good with yours. On the other, I'm afraid your police training will subconsciously trigger you to put me in a choke hold. I know how vicious you were in your academy days."

She gave his tail another light squeeze and wiped her fingers against the space between them. Then she paused and fished the baggied Night Howler out of her pocket. She felt the fox's eyes narrow on it. "Relax, Slick, my family will take care of it." She repocketed the baggie and gripped the wheel. But her paw idled over the ignition. Taking a deep breath, Judy turned to him. "I hope you're okay."

He shrugged. "I'm fine, Carrots. Just blast the heat and I'm sure we'll avoid getting sick. I mean, we both had to deal with ice water in training. This is nothing."

"I had plenty of rainy days growing up." Another deep breath. "Forgive me, but I have to ask. Did you really run away, when you were his age?"

"Damn your impeccable hearing. Why did I ever think I could escape the Long Ears of the Law?"

She smirked. "You can just tell me you don't wanna talk about it. I'll understand."

Nick faced the road ahead, blinking once or twice as lingering rainwater dripped down his ears. The ghostly kit didn't dart across the road, fleeing the seeming wrath of The Stranger. She'll understand. She said so, herself. "Yeah, I did."

Judy paused. "You did what?"

"Yeah, I did run away, when I was a little kit like him. I was remembering…" His gaze trailed out the window.

"You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to."

Nick closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His left paw extended to her right, prying them from the keys. He interlocked their fingers and held them for a moment. "We still got some time before we make it back to your folks. And after this little incident, I think it's time I told you about it." He smiled warmly at her. "Just promise you won't think I'm crazy."

She smiled back at him. "You're not crazy, Nick."

"Not yet. But thanks, Carrots." He sighed, gratefully. "Okay, here we go…"

---

The little fox…Nick runs his free paw down his muzzle, wiping away those stupid raindrops that keep going for his eyes. He looks at Saul. The pangolin keeps his head bowed, staring intently at the sidewalk beneath them. Nick smiles. "I have to look down, too. Or else I get stuck on those stupid cracks."

Saul chuckles. "Yeah, I know what you mean. This one time, I had to hustle down Ivy, that really busy street a few blocks over? So many cars, so many mammals trying to figure out where to go. And then I nearly got run over by an elephant."

Nick's eyes widen. "An elephant? I'm sorry."

"Don't be. She saw me coming. Just as well, I didn't really have anywhere else to be. I just wanted to get out of the sun for a bit."

The little fox frowns and considers Saul's homelessness for the fifth time. His backpack once again sags off his right shoulder. He groans and slips it back into place. In his other paw, the stupid strap drags along the sidewalk. He lifts it before it can hook a crack growing green and thick with grass. Is there something he can do for Saul? The little fox considers this, and nearly stumbles over another stupid rock.

Saul extends his left arm, propping Nick back up. "Stupid rock."

"Yeah, stupid rock." Nick thinks of grabbing and throwing it into the street. No, better not. Instead, he steps around it and pats down his backpack. With the zipper sealed, he's sure the photo, clothes, and baggie of Pup-Tarts are still okay. If a little wet.

Saul turns a corner, passing the slightly rusted mailbox. Nick whistles. "You know where to go, around here."

"You learn, especially if you have to keep going."

"Well, thank you for knowing where to go. I dunno if I could even get back."

"Don't worry about, Nick. It's the least I can do."

The little fox sneaks a look at the sky. The rain starts to lighten up, with fewer drops that threaten to strike his eyes. Still, Saul leans against one of the street-reaching trees to catch his breath. Nick takes this opportunity to inspect his backpack. His clothes, photo, and Pup-Tarts are all fine–save for more crumbs lining the bottom of the baggie. His smile falters a bit, when he sees Saul pressing his forehead to the bark, taking very deep breaths. "Are you okay?"

It takes a few seconds before Saul nods. "I'm fine, Nick. Don't worry about me. I just need a moment." He inhales sharply a couple more times and wipes his mouth with the back of his right arm. The pangolin pushes a smile for the little fox. "I'm just not used to this much excitement all in one night."

"I'm really sorry."

"Don't be. Just gimme a moment." The pangolin presses his forehead back to the bark and breathes a few more times. He then pulls away and glances at the leaves above them. On the pangolin's left arm, Nick spots a pair of faint white marks. But before he can ask, Saul laughs. "Thank God for small miracles."

"I guess," Nick replies, still not fully sure Saul's okay. He thinks about retrieving one of the Pup-Tarts for the pangolin. But with the way he keeps breathing like that…Nick shakes away the mental image of Saul violently choking to death. He pulls his paw back to his stomach. "I'm sorry if I made you really sick."

"You didn't. Don't worry about it." Saul runs his right foot over a slick spot on the sidewalk. "Careful, here. Sidewalk has all sorts of evil, little ways to trip you."

"Yeah, it does. I hate it."

"Well, let's continue, shall we? The sooner we get you back hom, the less chance it'll have to trip you."

Nick can't argue with that. Still, as he resumes walking, he looks over his shoulder, back towards the corner that leads to the tunnel. His feet freeze. Can he really go back? True, Saul has a point. How will he knew of his mother never gets scared, again, if he can't see her? And he doesn't wanna scare her, ever again. He can't! But…going back will scare her, won't it? But he won't know if he…

"You okay, Nick?"

The little fox forces his right foot forward. "I'm okay. Thanks, Saul."

The pangolin examines Nick for a moment. Nick stares guiltily at his feet. Saul sighs and steps back towards him. "It's okay, Nick. You're just gonna go home. You'll climb back into your warm bed, and you'll wake up to a nice breakfast. Like, maybe, blueberry waffles or pancakes."

Nick perks up. "Yeah, Mom makes really good…" His ears sink. "I'm really gonna scare her, again. I don't wanna scare her, ever again."

Saul sighs and gently pats the fox's shoulders. "I understand. I guess it's just a matter of figuring out which one scares her less."

The little fox nods. "Yeah, I guess scaring her by going back home is less scary, than scaring her by going away and never knowing how scared she really is." The back of his left arm runs over his forehead, slapping the soaked, stupid strap across his muzzle. He spits and slaps the strap down. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Shall we?" Saul gestures to the houses ahead.

Nick nods and secures his backpack over his shoulder. The pangolin starts, first. As his arm shifts, Nick once again sees the white marks. His mind projects something big, with large teeth and claws, diving for the pangolin. Saul screams and tries to shield his face. The creature, looking so much like The Stranger, gnashes its teeth and growls.

Saul looks over. "You all right, back there?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Nick shakes his head and picks up the pace. He tries hard not to look at Saul's arm, lest that stupid monster return. "Where are you gonna go?"

The pangolin doesn't reply or react until they cross the next street. "No idea. Don't worry about me; I'll be fine." He pauses and scans the sidewalk ahead. "We're making good time."

"Good," Nick chimes in. Although about five steps in, teeth gnash at the back of his mind. He quietly growls and shakes his head. The teeth retreat. He looks over at Saul. The pangolin continues looking forward. Well, at least he isn't breathing so heavily, anymore.

They stop under another tree. Nick settles against the bark, tucks the mostly dry stupid strap into his pack, and pulls out the Pup-Tarts. Saul seats himself atop the sidewalk, scooting over to avoid another stupid crack. The little fox slowly slides out a Pup-Tart. It breaks in half, the bottom half thankfully dropping back in. He closes his eyes and takes a bite. The blueberry filling still tastes nice. He reopens his eyes and looks around. No cars. No one else.

Saul lowers his eyes to the ground and takes several more deep breaths. His ears fold to his head. Nick watches as Saul stretches his arms towards the stupid crack and then above him. After a few seconds of stretching, he yawns. And despite Nick's best efforts, he also yawns. A chunk of pastry and filling hits the sidewalk. The little fox quickly polishes off the rest. He reaches for the other half, when Saul grips his chest and closes his eyes.

"Are you okay?" Nick asks, quietly.

The pangolin shakes himself awake. "Yeah, sorry about that. Didn't get a lot of sleep." Before Nick can say anything, he raises his right paw. "Not your fault. I wanted to make sure you were okay. I'll lose sleep over that."

Nick's frown doesn't completely leave his face, but he nods and pulls out the other half to chew on. His eyes shift over the photo sticking out. The little fox hooks the Pup-Tart between his teeth, wipes the crumbs from his paws, and takes it. And much to his sadness, an ugly tear now works it way up from the left corner, almost ripping into his past self's throat. He carefully folds it up and slides it back between two of his shirts.

Saul gets to his feet. "We should get going, before it gets too much la–" He turns and chuckles. "You probably should finish that." He points to the Pup-Tart barely supported between Nick's teeth.

The little fox catches the pastry and quickly eats it. "I'm sorry. I got kinda hungry. You want one?"

Saul shakes his head. "I'm good. We should get going, before I really start falling asleep."

"What do you usually eat?"

"Whatever I can find. You ready, Nick?"

The little fox zips his backpack shut and slides the good strap over his shoulder. "Yeah, I'm ready. And I don't think we have to go much further, right?"

"No, about a few more streets over, and you'll be home."

Nick takes a few steps forward, expertly moving around the stupid crack from earlier. Saul chuckles and moves ahead. Around them, no one steps out of their home or drives down in their cars. Another yawn escapes the little fox. He clamps his muzzle shut with his free paw and looks up. Sure enough, here comes another streetlight with its orange-yellow aura. He pulls his paw away and resumes watching for any other signs of life.

Saul lets out another yawn and brushes his face. A couple raindrops strike his eyes. He chuckles and wipes them away with the back of his left arm. "Rain's mean like that. Goes right for the eyes."

"Yeah, it does. I hate when it does that," Nick agrees.

Fortunately for them, the rain eases into smaller, fewer drops. One of the clouds overhead curiously resembles a paw. Nick lifts his free paw to meet with it. And then pulls it back to his side, with an annoyed growl. He checks the houses around them, once more. No one's coming out. He looks back at the paw-shaped cloud. A trail of dark gray drags behind it, like an arm. Or maybe like–

Footsteps!

Saul stops a few feet ahead. Nick quickly walks up and hovers behind the pangolin. In the orange-yellow aura of the next streetlight, someone leans against the pole to catch their breath. Their head dips to the sidewalk. Nick's ears twitch. They're crying. The little fox takes a curious step forward. The crying mammal covers their face, but a familiar tail curls around their ankles. He briefly looks up at Saul. The pangolin just stares. His breathing slows.

But as Nick readies to ask Saul if he's okay, the crying mammal slides their paws away. The little fox's arms fall at his sides. He stares at them. They stare back, their ears perking up and tail lifting into the air. A smile breaks across their face. "Nick?!"

"Mom!"

Nick runs to the vixen. His backpack slips free, hitting the sidewalk hard. But he doesn't notice, instead throwing out his arms and leaping into his mother's. The vixen tightly embraces her son, almost stumbling towards the nearby chain-link fence. She peppers the top of his head with kisses. Nick closes and presses his eyes under her chin. She carefully lowers his to the sidewalk and cups his cheeks. His eyes begin to water.

"Nicholas Piberius Wilde, what are you doing out there?" she asked, softly but firmly.

Nick's ears set against his head. He brushes his eyes with the back of his left arm. "I'm really sorry, Mom. I'm really sorry." His muzzle locks up.

The vixen sighs and reembraces her son. "We'll discuss this at home. You're gonna get sick out here in this–" Her eyes settle on the pangolin a few feet away. Her tail instinctively coils around Nick's back. But the pangolin doesn't move. "Who are you?"

Nick breaks free and turns to Saul. But Saul still doesn't move. He just continues to stare. The little fox's ears pick up on his heavier breathing. He takes a step towards Saul. The pangolin still doesn't move. "He helped me, Mom. I fell down a hole, and he helped me out of it."

The vixen looks at her son, who earnestly smiles, and then looks back at Saul. The pangolin snaps out of his trance and picks up Nick's backpack. He slowly lifts it into the air and extends it to the kit. Nick gratefully accepts it. But as soon as he pulls the backpack from Saul's fingers, the pangolin resumes his frozen stare.

"He really did help me, Mom," Nick repeats. "He really did help me."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, Mom, he helped me. He was still helping me. He was helping me walk back home."

His mother takes a couple steps forward. The pangolin's legs shake. Nick frowns and looks at her. She sets her paw on her son's shoulder and eases her face into an appreciative smile. "Thank you for helping my son, Mister…"

The pangolin blinks. "Saul. My name is Saul. And you're very welcome, Mrs. Wilde. Nick's a good kit. I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to him." His paws twitch a little. He swallows a lump in his throat and smiles for the little fox. "It's just really late for me."

Nick smiles back, until his eyes once again spot the white marks on the pangolin's arm. He quickly opens his backpack and pulls out the baggie of Pup-Tarts. The little fox holds it out to Saul. The pangolin slowly looks down. Nick waves the baggie. "In case you don't find anything to eat."

"You sure? I wouldn't want to deprive you."

Nick takes a step closer, still holding the baggie out. "It's okay. I can always get more. But you told me you gotta find food, so here."

The pangolin holds out his right paw and accepts the baggie. "Thank you, Nick."

Nick's smile grows. Behind him, his mother manages one of her own. "Would you like to spend the night with us, and get out of the rain?"

Saul's smile drops. He tucks the baggie into his pocket and holds his shaking paws at his sides. "No, thank you, ma'am. I should get going, anyway. I just wanted to make sure Nick got home okay. He's a good kit."

"Are you sure?" she asks, taking another step forward.

The pangolin's eye shoot open, and his legs threaten to give out. "No, I'm good. I don't wanna intrude. But thank you for your kindness. I should get going. Thank you, anyway." He relaxes his face and gives Nick one more smile. "Thank you, Nick. I'm sure these'll be good."

"Thank you for helping me, Saul."

He nods. "You're welcome, Nick. Have a good night." His head lifts up to face the vixen. His smile shakes. "Have a good night, Mrs. Wilde. I hope you and your family do well." The pangolin gives Nick a little salute and turns towards the sidewalk leading to the tunnel. He pauses a moment to check on the baggie. The Pup-Tarts are still relatively intact. He nods and starts to walk away. He pauses, again, to give a final wave. Nick waves back, until he can no longer see him.

His arm slowly falls down at his side, as he remembers Saul's shaky legs and wide eyes. He glances at his mother, who kneads her forehead with her right paw. His eyes trail down the sidewalk. The faint, white marks on Saul's arm come back to him. They curve around each other, almost like…

Nick's eyes widen. And his heart tightens in a vice grip, when he recalls the way he snapped his teeth at Saul, back when he thought he was The Stranger. He claps his paws over his muzzle. His ears press against his head and his eyes water.

The vixen quickly steps over and pulls her son into another embrace. Nick buries his face into her stomach, tears flowing freely. She sets his backpack aside and gently brushes his back. Nick keeps his eyes shut and shudders. She kisses the top of his head. "It's okay, Nick. It's okay, now. Let's get out of the rain. Let's go home."

He pulls his face away and looks over his shoulder. Saul doesn't return. He shudders, again, and reaches for his backpack. His mother picks it up and slides the good strap onto his right shoulder. Nick's muzzle continues to twitch. She kisses the top of his head and gently takes his free paw. "Come on, Nicky. Let's go home."

His fingers squeeze hers. His muzzle still twitching, Nick gives her a weak nod. The vixen smiles and turns to lead her son out from under the streetlight. Nick glances over his shoulder, once more. No sign of the pangolin. Teeth gnash in the back of his mind. He frowns and forces himself to look ahead. Taking a deep breath, he walks with his mother back to the apartment building. The gnashing teeth fall silent.

Nick and his mother stay quiet for the rest of the walk. The little fox looks up and down both sides of the street. No other footsteps. No cars. No one else. His muzzle shakes and shoots forward in a sneeze that echoes over the tarmac. His mother ushers him up the steps and opens the door. Nick sneezes, again. His mother's paw keeps him from falling backwards. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it, Nick." His mother closes the door behind them. She then holds out her paw to catch his next sneeze. "Oh, Nicky…"

"I'm sorry, Mom."

"It's okay. We'll talk about it, when we get home."

"Okay, Mom." Nick slaps his paws over his shaking muzzle. "I'm sorry."

The vixen leads her son up the stairs to their apartment. Nick blinks. To his right, his past self, determined to flee and never scare her, ever again, carefully walks down the stars and steps out the front door. He shudders and directs his gaze ahead.

Crossing into their apartment, the vixen lifts the backpack from her son's shoulders and sets it on the floor. Nick closes his eyes and stretches his mouth into a bigger yawn. She yawns with him and pulls off his wet shirt. The little fox fidgets and blinks out water seeping into his eyes. His mother kneels next to him and brushes down the knots growing in his fur. "Nick," she says, as calmly as she can. "I want you to tell me what you were doing out there."

Her son freezes in place. His tail sags to the floor.

She sighs and repositions herself, so she can look him directly in the eyes. "You scared me, Nicky. I want to know why you did that."

Nick's eyes seal shut. His muzzle shudders.

She tenderly cups his cheeks. "Nick, look at me when I'm talking to you."

The little fox slowly obliges, newer tears forming along the rims of his eyes.

His mother brushes them away with her thumbs. "Nick, I just want to know why you did that. What were you thinking? I was so afraid you might have…" Now, her muzzle shudders.

Nick shakes his head. "No, Mom, I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't wanna scare you. I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I just didn't wanna scare you, ever again. I'm really, really sorry!" He buries his face under her chin.

The vixen holds her son for a moment, letting him cry against her fur, before pushing back so their eyes would once again meet. "What do you mean?"

He struggles to keep his eyes and head level with hers. "I really scared you, that night I came back from the Junior Ranger Scouts. You looked so scared, and I was crying, and…" His head sinks towards the floor.

She sighs and moves her paws to his shoulders. Nick digs his toe claws into the blue carpet. When he's able to look at her, his vision horribly blurs. Once again, she brushes his tears away with her thumbs. Despite herself, a bit of anger comes out through her folded ears. "And you didn't think I wouldn't get even more scared, if you ran away?"

Nick recoils, his tail curling defensively around his ankles. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm really, really sorry. I didn't want to scare you, ever again!"

His mother's face eases. "No, no, Nicky, it's okay, it's okay." She pulls him back to her, lightly kissing the top of his head. "I just got really scared. I don't know what I would have done, if you were…"

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Nicky. It's okay." She moves her paw soothingly down his back. "It's okay. You're home, now."

"I'm sorry, Mom."

"It's okay, Nicky. It's okay."

They embrace for another few minutes, until Nick breaks it with a heavy sneeze. His mother turns him around, to inspect his back. She remembers the pangolin. "Nick, did that mammal really help you?"

The little fox pauses. The memory of Saul's scared face returns. He pushes himself not to cry. "He did, Mom. He really did. I got stuck in a hole, and he helped me out."

"And what were you doing stuck in a hole?"

Nick blinks. He can't tell her about how he ran away from Saul, because he thought Saul was The Stranger. She'll think he was trying to hurt him! He coughs and turns to face his mother. "I wanted to get out of the rain, so I went into this tunnel, where they had all these signs saying I shouldn't go inside."

"Nicky!"

He holds up his paws. "I know, Mom, I know. I just wanted to get out of the rain. So, I went in there, and I fell into this hole. But he got me out of there. He told me he couldn't let anything bad happen to me."

The vixen considers this, taking time to examine Nick's legs and paws. Some minor scrapes and imprints from hitting pebbles and concrete, but nothing too severe. She sighs with relief. "Nicky, don't ever do that, again."

"I won't, Mom. I'm really, really sorry."

"It's okay, it's okay. Now, go get cleaned up and get ready for bed."

"Okay, Mom. I will."

She catches his shoulder, before he can walk off. "Nicky, if you ever feel that way, please tell me, okay? Please tell me before you do something brainless like that, ever again."

"I will, Mom. I'm sorry, Mom."

"It's okay, Nick. Just go to sleep. We'll talk about this more in the morning." She smoothens out some of the shaken fur on his head and smiles. "Thank God you're home. Thank God."

Nick manages a smile, which fades as soon as she's out of sight. A lingering drop sliding down the back of his right ear catches his attention. He shakes it away, opens up his backpack, and pulls out the photo. The tear is still there, still going for his throat. He carefully folds it up and sets it on the nearby coffee table. Maybe he can fix it, later. There's still some tape left over, somewhere.

The little fox shivers. Clutching his arms, he walks towards the window and looks over the city. Orange-yellow streetlights dot the area, flickering like sickly eyes. He tries looking for Saul. No, he won't see the pangolin from up here. Too many trees. Too many houses. Too many streetlights in the way. His eyes move back to the sky. The paw-shaped cloud is gone.

"I hope you're okay. Thank you." After a few seconds, he turns to his mother's room and quietly adds, "I'm really sorry, Mom. I'm really sorry."

With another sneeze, Nick makes his way towards his bedroom. His blue pajamas are still nice and neatly folded, exactly like he left them. The little fox reaches for them, and then pulls back. No, he can't go to bed while he's still kinda wet like this. Nick walks to the corner and collects his supplies and orange-red towel. Bundling them into his arms, he heads out of the apartment and towards the communal bathroom.

He pauses a couple feet away from the threshold and looks at the stairs. His past self sidles along the hall, checking each and every door. The ghostly kit stalls near the top of the stairs and looks back. Nick blinks. His past self vanishes. The little fox chuckles and reaches for the door. "Nobody like a crazy fox, Nick Wilde," he murmurs. Despite this, a little smile crosses his muzzle. At least he's home. At least he's okay.

For now.

---

As Nick finished his story, the Hopps Family homestead approached on the horizon. Despite the wild paw and arm gestures and melodramatic voice acting, Judy barely held back tears. And by the end of it, Nick also had a hard time keeping himself from crying against the cool glass. His tail slowly brushed Judy's leg. She briefly peeled her right paw from the wheel to stroke it.

But before they reached the dirt road leading back, Judy pulled over. Nick slowly lifted away from the window. The rabbit unbuckled herself and moved over to embrace him. The fox returned it and chuckled. "You bunnies, always so emotional."

Judy smiled and kissed under his chin. Nick tilted his head down and kissed between her eyes. The rabbit gave him one last squeeze and slid back to her seat. Nick's tail, having deftly climbed to avoid getting crushed, shifted back towards her leg. Her paw returned to caress it.

"Thank you, Judy."

"No smart remarks?"

"Nah, I can't think of anything, at the moment." Nick glanced out the window. The ghostly kit didn't reappear. Good, dodged that neurosis. Now, if only I could avoid scaring her like that, ever again. He turned back to the rabbit. "Well, okay, I'm sure this'll make a good chapter for my autobiography."

Judy ran her fingers through his tail fur. "You mean that stack of coffee-stained papers you keep asking me to read?"

The fox scoffed. "All great art has humble beginnings." He sighed. "Although I'm sure this little adventure'll look good for yours. Judy Hopps, Savior of Children from Slippery Slopes."

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Selling yourself short. You spotted Mikey, first. If you didn't see him, we would've missed him completely. And you helped save his friend from sinking in the mud. You really need to stop doing that, Nick."

"Well, you're the real hero, here, Hopps," he lamely replied.

"We're partners, in case you forgot." Judy leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Right, right. Guess I should get my head checked." His paws made another valiant attempt to unscrew his scalp.

Judy laughed and slapped his paws away. "Stop that." Her smile slowly dropped. "So, what happened to Saul?"

Nick sighed. "I have no idea."

She stared at him, quizzically. "I thought you knew everybody in Zootopia?"

"I was exaggerating a little, you adorably gullible bunny. But I have no idea. I never saw him again, after that night. I wanna believe he's okay, but I don't know. I completely forgot about him, until a little while ago. Kinda makes me feel like crap."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I. But I can't really do anything about that, now." He shifted uncomfortably. "And you know the rest. Despite promising I'd never scare her, ever again, I got into the wonderful world of hustling." The fox chuckled wistfully. "Oh, the hell she raised when she found out. Guess I couldn't keep that promise for long, huh?"

"You know you more than made it up to her. She told me, herself. She's very proud of you."

"Was that before or after she showed you my rap sheet?"

Judy smiled warmly and pulled his tail into her lap. "You're a good mammal, Nick."

"I hope so. Otherwise, Bogo'll finally have an excuse to lock me up. Might tarnish your sterling reputation, dating a crook like me."

She freed one of her paws to lightly slug his shoulder. "You're a good mammal, Nick."

He rubbed the "sore spot". "I heard you the first time, Mama Doe."

Judy laughed. Soon, Nick joined her. A passing car slowed for a moment, its goat driver eyeing both of them curiously, before taking off. Judy and Nick glanced at each other, and then resumed laughing. His gaze drifted back to the window. No ghostly kit emerged. Yeah, I'm in the clear. This time, anyway. While Judy eased herself into a snicker, Nick pulled her over and kissed her cheek. "Thanks, Carrots."

"Don't mention it, Slick. Like I said, I'm here for you."

"Back atcha." Nick gave her another cheek peck. A devious smirk crossed his face. "So, when the people of Bunnyburrow crown you, will that make me your Royal Consort?"

Judy grinned. "Well, I was going to make you my Chief Treasurer and Chief Blueberry Supervisor, but I guess Royal Consort will suffice."

"Awwww, you mean I could've had mammals vying for my approval with blueberry pies?" Nick pouted. "Fine, have your stupid crown. I didn't want a cushy government job, anyway."

"Of course you didn't." She reached for the ignition. "Are you okay?"

He smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine, Judy."

"Good, I'm glad. Guess it helped to get that off your chest?"

"You said it, not me."

"Dumb fox," she chuckled, turning the keys. The Hopps Family Farm truck pulled back onto the road, for its short journey back to the homestead.

"You think Mikey'll be okay, now?"

Judy nodded. "He'll be fine, Nick. His friends still care about him. His mother still loves him. And even that ewe who got scared still looked for him. Things will work out." Then she quickly added, "And I'll make sure that Night Howler is dealt with."

"I gotcha, Hopps. He's a good kit. I hope he'll be all right."

"I'm sure he will." And then, she cautiously added, "I hope Saul's doing all right, too."

Nick cast one last look at the cloudy sky. "You and me both, Carrots. You and me both."