Writer's Note:
Upon clicking this chapter, you might have thought something along the lines of "this is pretty long".
You, person whose gender I will not dare assume, have no idea.
The second chapter of this Tale originally sported a whooping 30.000 words, give or take. However, I felt that daunting length to be distracting from the reading experience, which should not be too tiring; otherwise, I might as well write the whole thing and upload it in a single chapter. Can't have that now, can we?
Thusly, "The Zone" covers the first half of what was originally intended to be the second chapter.
Enjoy.
Chapter 2:
"The Zone"
With beautiful faces
excessively violent rangers
and fateful encounters
Predatory mammals had been a stable presence in most of Zootopia's colorful history.
Needless to say, they had not been among the first species that came together at the bank of Sofstream, as even the founding mammals had not been tolerant enough to allow natural killers to join their blossoming community. It was not until many years later, shortly after the first few expansions of the forming town took place, that the prey species of Zootopia first came in non hostile contact with predators.
The predators of those times were organized in tribes of a single species, numbered few mammals each and were strictly nomadic. The early Zootopians were not particularly threatened by these tribes, seeing as they outnumbered them significantly, but instinct and past enmities had established a resting distrust between them and their former hunters.
So it was that when, at a certain point in the town's early days, a small group of nomad hyenas reluctantly approached them, expressing a desire to conduct trade, the locals had initially been unwilling and responded with threats. Eventually, however, and with all precautions imaginable, they agreed to the hyenas' proposal, and they watched with relief as the latter left after all exchanges had been completed without any blood being spilt.
The Zootopians were satisfied with the goods the nomads had provided them, and the nomads had procured a good amount of bird meat which would ensure them a good year on their travels. In short, both parties felt oddly happy with the result, considering they had just risked doing business with their natural enemies. Then both their thoughts turned to the irregularity that was Zootopia, the community of various species, and how that peculiar arrangement seemed to work miraculously well. And the more they thought about it, the more they pondered. The more they imagined.
For the first time ever, predator and prey alike dared wonder what a community consisting of both of them would be like.
The hyenas added Zootopia to their yearly route. They returned time and time again, did business with the increasingly diverse mammals that occupied it and went on their way; and every time the procedure ended, everyone involved felt a little less skeptical, a bit less reluctant, and ever more eager for the profitable trading to resume the year after.
Eventually, the hyenas suggested a different agreement, one that would allow them to finally make a home for themselves, hopefully next to Sofstream and it's residents. The locals had blatantly rejected them, of course, but when the hyenas, ever unwilling to take a clue, retorted with a nonchalant shrug and begun building a town of their own to the south of Zootopia, they had seen little merit in forcibly chasing them out. So it was that the hyenas ended their nomadic ways by claiming a land close enough to the small riverside town to allow for easy transactions but far enough for the comfort of both them and the nearby prey.
Zootopian merchants benefited greatly from the presence of the hyenas. They visited their crummy looking settlement and made a profit by providing them with chickens and lizards while also selling their knowledge on breeding and harvesting them. They were the first prey to ever become truly accustomed to the presence of predators, and even grew somewhat fond of the hyenas and their peculiar speech, so reminiscent of contagious, fractious laughter; the mirthful sound gave prey the impression that these mammals were in a state of constant elation.
Historians claimed that this was the origin of the town's name: Happytown, the town of sharp teeth and laughter.
The hyenas were the first to see Zootopia's worth and reach out to it, but certainly not the last. Before long, they were joined by other predators who followed in their footsteps, slowly earning their trust as well as that of the local prey, whose authority remained largely undisputed even as Happytown grew along with the original town.
That authority was evident in Zootopia's superior architecture, each expansion embellishing the existing constructions and enriching it with new, ever grander ones, eventually leading to the construction it's first set of thick stone walls. All the while, the predatory residents of Happytown settled for a mere increase in the number of huts of wood and clay that were used to house them, and no better protection than a reinforced fence surrounding them.
That clear gap in power between predator and prey owed it's existence to a vast difference in their populations. By their biology, prey multiplied at an exceedingly fast rate, while predators typically only had two or maybe three kits per litter at best; and with the safety provided by their city, prey found their numbers growing exponentially over the years.
That numerical advantage solidified their supremacy in the area, and predators never really cared to contest it as the two greatly different towns rarely involved themselves in the internal issues of one another. It was a practical, live-and-let-live situation that favored them both, and they remained cooperative enough through those early ages, conducting business regularly or even assisting one another in the face of external threats. Indeed, the support of Zootopia meant that any small bandit group would think twice before raiding the shanty based Happytown, and the predators' immanent prowess in battle, as well as their dependence on prey, made them valuable and affordable mercenaries in many of Zootopia's first petty wars.
That era of relative peace was not to last, however, as the monarchs that came to be in Zootopia eventually sought to expand their territories and inevitably set their eyes on Happytown; this occurred shortly after the construction of Rockwood Castle, which in itself stood as a clear indication that resistance from the predators was futile. Happytown was occupied by Zootopian troops and it's residents, who had by then grown into masterful breeders of livestock, were made to work their aviaries and lizard farms for their new masters.
Over the countless centuries of Animalia's ceaseless growth, all predator species encountered and conquered were gathered in Happytown, where they were gradually assimilated and made into a powerful working force for the country. They were essentially slaves under the monarchs, who had a disdain for them even greater than that they harbored for the common prey.
So it was that, when the uprising came and revolution broke out in the capital, predators too took up arms and played a pivotal role in the fight. One especially gallant leopard, a dashing male remembered as Adam the Kingsbane, was even viewed as a leading figure by the revolutionaries, and he had famously been the one to spearhead the final assault across the streets of both Happytown and Zootopia, lynch the royal family and initiate the sacking of the palace. He would eventually be revered as a legendary hero among predators, despite the fact that his tale reinforced the widespread beliefs regarding their savage and aggressive nature.
The Council of Mammals rewarded the residents of Happytown with their freedom, reinstating their rights and giving them dominion over their homes and businesses. It was at that point that the predators of Animalia split into two groups.
Some chose to stay in Happytown and rebuild their homes alongside their newly liberated prey brethren or move to other nearby provinces, away from the place that had served as their prison for countless generations, to try and coexist with the hopefully less despotic mammals that occupied the rest of the country.
Others thought back to their ancestors and saw that their vagrant ways, for all the perils they invited, offered a freedom they lusted for more than anything. They built caravans and moved away from the prey dominated south, heading ever to the north; some passed the borders of Animalia never to be seen again, while others managed to survive the thinly populated northern provinces whilst traveling the long distances from town to town, trading and offering whatever services they could to the locals. Those would eventually come to be called gypsies, and their "uncivilized lifestyle", as it was considered by prey, would lead to them being widely frowned upon and distrusted; "the worst, even among chompers", as a certain beaver would one day so eloquently describe them.
Predator presence in the southern country eventually waned, with merely scattered families surviving, bound in the service of wealthy prey. Most returned to Happytown, where they were allowed to prosper, to a certain extent; but wherever they went, they where always shunned by prey who remained forever suspicious of the mammals who had originally evolved to kill them.
Things for the gypsies in the north were arguably better. The remote province became a safe haven for them, so much so that some abandoned their nomadic ways anew, founding small villages or, more rarely, finding jobs in the existing ones, working with and under prey that was far less prejudiced than their southern counterparts. The Council would make more wars to expand Animalia to the north over the years that followed, but the local populations of the conquered areas, who were largely predators, were treated with relative decency, allowed to peacefully assimilate and join either the gypsies or the settlers.
In the centuries following the fall of the monarchy, and while the newly freed predators struggled to find their new place in the world, Zootopia continued to grow, eventually becoming the great capital it now was. The constant expansions, however, meant that eventually the colossal city approached the site of old Happytown. As it became more and more apparent that the latter would eventually have to either be destroyed entirely or be made a new addition to Zootopia itself, tensions grew among the residents of the capital who had remained ever apprehensive of predators, even after all these years, and would not easily accept them inside their tall walls. A solution needed to be found.
And one such solution was indeed found when the construction of the Control Zone was decreed. It was an expansive, semicircular district that was put together crudely and hurriedly, with emphasis given to the wall and fences that surrounded it, allowing for effective control of the mammals who passed through it.
The Zone stood between Happytown, which was now enclosed in Zootopia's sturdy walls and considered a district, and the rest of the city, giving prey a feeling of safety and predators an uncomfortable reminder of the time Happytown had served as a work camp for their ancestors. Still, predators back then had been pleased to finally be allowed into the majestic city, despite being strictly regulated; and the most sly of them could always figure out illicit ways past the Zone, much like the stray groups of trouble making gypsies that would occasionally venture to the south and sneak into Happytown before the construction of the walls was complete, drawn in by Zootopia's magnificence. These gypsies, who readily disregarded the implications of living among scornful prey, were arguably the most adventurous, as well as the most foolish among the northern predators.
Bogo's scrolls contained some of that information, but the rest was up to Judy to find out for herself. The gypsies' presence in the city, for example, had come as a bit of a shock, as had the local prey's fear of the predators that occupied the southern part of Zootopia.
Aside from a numbered few lowly workers she had come across in the Burrows, she had little experience with predators and so was inordinately curious about their community and their interactions with the rest of the citizens; and, most of all, she wondered if the predators would prove to be more frightening than the mammals she'd come across and taken down thus far in her career.
Smugly enough, she couldn't imagine they would.
And so, as she saw the vegetable and fruit booths of Farmer's Avenue gradually being replaced by hucksters selling chicken and lizard meat and the traffic becoming thinner and thinner, signaling her imminent arrival to the Zone's outer fences, she was not the least bit worried about what she was to encounter there.
If she only knew.
The Zone was enclosed by a thick brick wall, sitting at the average height of a giraffe -the animals were many times taller than any predator species- and spanning across the city's length, all the way from Farmer's Avenue to Rockwood District. The brick wall was in turn surrounded by inner and outer wooden fences that were not expected to stop unauthorized exit per se, but rather slow down any potential runaway who could possibly scale the wall long enough for the armed guards to arrest them. Such guards were stationed throughout the length of the wall and in either side of it in groups of two, instructed to alert all nearby patrols should they spot any suspicious behavior. They constituted the sole hint of military presence in the entire city, save for the guardsmen at it's main gates.
Judy took note of their species and the way they had been distributed; there were two smaller or average sized mammals with lighter armament, such as brown hares or pronghorns, for every bulkier one, such as rhinos, hippos or buffaloes. It made sense, as agility and speed were more important in their duty, which would require them to swiftly apprehend unruly predators as they stumbled through the fences or, in the worse case scenario, pursuit them before they could take shelter in the city's labyrinth.
Larger groups stood guard at each of the three wide entrances to the Zone, where the brick wall broke to allow the authorized mammals passage in and out of the district. Judy's gnu guided them to the eastern entrance at the edge of the Avenue, where Judy only had to hand her identification scroll over to the mammal currently in service there, a young, languid hedgehog who clearly resented his assigned position. Judy couldn't blame the guy, really; just writing down the names and descriptions of both the predators who left the Zone and their employers and keeping track of how many of them returned before nightfall seemed so hopelessly mundane a task that she would have probably let an unauthorized predator slip through just so she could give chase afterward.
The hedgehog briefly looked at the document to check it's authenticity before handing it back to her, signaling her along. She figured there was no need to be too strict with people entering the Zone, let alone ones so glaringly of the prey variety as the amethyst eyed bunny and her carrier. She inquired about regulations for prey exiting the district after nightfall before entering, and after being informed that there would be other state workers pulling night shifts at the entrances to accommodate just such foolhardy prey, she moved on with a sympathetic tip of her cap.
And so, ranger lieutenant Judith Laverne Hopps found herself in the eastern Zone a few hours before sundown, ears standing attentively and eyes cautiously taking in her surroundings. The venturesome rabbit was managing to moderate her enthusiasm, just as her gnu was managing to somewhat contain his resting unease, if the nervous twitching of his muscles was anything to go by.
The urbanization of the Zone was reminiscent of that of Farmer's Avenue, it being a series of wide, parallel streets with various shops at either sides of them. The shops in question were clearly oriented towards predators, with the signs hanging over the numerous inns and taverns advertizing their recipes for chicken dishes or the tiny booths at the roadside selling skewered lizards. Judy felt a retch brewing in her throat as she caught the smell of burned meat and urged her gnu to move away from the establishments and further into the district.
There were different kinds of shops to be seen in the streets deeper into the Zone, such as tailors, shoemakers -for the few mammals who felt comfortable actually wearing shoes-, tilers and even a few merchants dealing in trinkets, cheap fabrics, tools and utensils; Judy figured that those parts of the district served as the predators' equivalent of St. Marie's Plaza, although the astronomical difference in quality made any comparison between the two feel unfair.
At some point the bunny spotted a relatively large wooden structure that caught her attention. It resembled an inn, but the single paneled door and the shapely female panther that stood outside of it, dressed in inappropriately revealing rags and sporting an insinuative look above her whiskers, made the establishment stand out from the inns Judy had come across in the city. It took her a few moments to realize what the establishment really was.
Brothels and overall prostitution were illegal in the Burrows. She knew that was not the case in Zootopia, but after not seeing any such businesses in the city so far, she had assumed the citizens simply had the decency not to endorse in transactions of that nature. Clearly, the predators had no such inhibitions.
The panther eventually noticed the bunny staring at her brothel with a derogatory scowl and shot her a challenging smirk, pulling lightly at her rags to make her outfit even more revealing. Judy responded with a crinkle of her nose and looked away in disgust, signaling her carrier to move along. Her disapproving frown remained, however, as she now noticed that the Zone was actually riddled with such establishments, brothels and whorehouses big and small, squished between the numerous inns and likely in collaboration with them.
Other than that, Judy also noticed the underlying presence of a bothersome scent; not quite as rancid as the smell of charred meat emanating from the booths close to the entrance, but certainly unpleasant. She would later learn that many of Softstream's canals exited the city through it's southern end, and a number of them served as drainage for the city's inhabitants; that explained both the admirable cleanliness of the other districts and the fowl odors she had encountered in the Zone.
The wastes of the citizens were thrown into specified canals, and the accumulated squalor traveled through them to eventually peak in Happytown, from where it exited the city's confines. These canals actually went through the western part of the Zone, meaning that the smell Judy had caught wind of in it's eastern end paled in comparison to the one near the source. How the canine predators of these parts, whose noses were commonly known to be most sensitive, could cope with it was beyond her understanding.
As for the local residents, it goes without saying that they were primarily predators. Judy had met only certain kinds of predators before, such as foxes, jackals and even a timber wolf at some point, but standing in an entire crowd of them, rife with countless different species of their ilk, was a different experience entirely. Admittedly, she felt a little uncomfortable, and was glad for her carrier's rushed pace as he made for the closest ranger outpost, clearly sharing the sentiment.
What helped ease her instinctive worry was the constant presence of fellow rangers in the streets, who actually gave off an air of competence and efficiency she had not found in any of the others she had encountered in Zootopia so far, as well as the fact that there were prey citizens to be seen among the numerous predators. Logger had mentioned that only "the crazies" set up shop in the Zone, and judging from the poor quality of everything she'd seen in the district so far, it was not exactly a desirable destination for prey to visit, but even so, there were more flat-teethed mammals among the predators than there were predators outside of the brick wall; few, to be sure, but present nonetheless.
Once again, Judy found herself questioning the danger the predators actually posed, as well as the unlikelihood of her suspect actually being among them. As the gnu came to a stop in front of the first outpost she was to visit in the following hours, she thought that perhaps her investigation in these parts wasn't so hopeless after all.
"Ma'am, my shift ends at nightfall, and I will have to take you back all the way to Rockwood. Shouldn't we be leaving soon?"
The gnu did his best not to sound annoyed, but it was clear that the extensive detours his employer had decided to take -in such a dangerous part of town, no less- had bothered him greatly; he had originally been hired for a one way ride to the fancy Liberty District, after all.
Judy no longer had it in her to argue. The Zone had the strongest ranger presence in the city by far, and at every corner there was another outpost for her to inquire at. The process, along with the rest of her full day and her lack of sleep had left her positively drained; which would have been totally fine with her had she had anything to show for it. But alas, the blind fumbling she had so zealously committed herself to stubbornly refused to bear any fruits.
She didn't need a mirror to know the bags under her eyes now aspired to contest her ears, which she could hardly keep alift at that point, and the gnu's slow pace had her rocking to and fro in an almost cradling motion that made it that much harder to keep herself awake. Adding to her overall discomfort was the chilly breeze that accompanied the descent of the sun behind the western walls, causing her the occasional shiver and making her regret not taking her scarf with her that morning. In short, the gnu's suggestion was guaranteed to pass; only not immediately.
"We're approaching the local headquarters, aren't we?" She replied, trying to blink the fatigue off her heavy eyelids. "I'll ask around there for a bit and then we'll head straight to Rockwood, I promise."
In response, the gnu grunted something incomprehensible and darted forth, eager to bring their risky trip to an end; Judy yelped in surprise and barely managed to grab onto the front of the saddle to keep herself seated as they suddenly gained speed. She would have berated her carrier had his impatience not given her her second wind; or third, or even fourth, considering how long her day had been. She had gotten up to five in the past, but she wasn't as young as she used to, so there was no telling where her reserves now stood at.
After a swift blur of a ride, they had reached the headquarters, and Judy's want for sleep further diminished at it's sight. It was easily the largest one she had seen so far, and by far the less glamorous, with dirt and deterioration having left their mark on it's frontage of wood and stone and the big flag with the rangers' crest aged and dusty. It conveyed the exact same feeling as the rangers the bunny had met in this district so far: hard, seasoned and telling, ready to take drastic action against any breach of the law they were meant to enforce.
For all the things Judy disliked about the Zone so far, she certainly approved of it's rangers.
She dismounted her carrier with a promise that she'd wrap things up quickly, straightened her shirt and vest and finally entered through the open panel of the headquarters' elephant sized doors; busy as it was, the local force likely didn't have the luxury of building more than one entrance.
She was met with an unexpected commotion. The spacey common room of the headquarters was filled to the brim with mammals of all kinds, predator and prey alike, standing in messy lines before the booths where all of seven different ranger coordinators were seated, their paws clearly full with catering to the colorful assortment of animals. Numerous other rangers stood guard at the walls, overlooking the citizens to make sure no one left the common room to sneak into the weaponry or the storage rooms and begrudgingly accompanying them to the lavatories when they expressed the need.
One of the coordinators, an aged porcupine with a number of missing spines on his coat which spoke of years in active duty, was calmly and professionally responding to the indignant shouting of an angry lemur, but Judy couldn't make out the conversation over the loud clamor of the room. There was also a giraffe who had almost stepped on a bobcat, starting a fight that forced one of the rangers on standby, a bulky rhino with short but sharp horns and an austere scowl, to intervene and restore whatever semblance of order there was to be among the obnoxious crowd. She also briefly spotted a raccoon and a fox close to the back of the lines, a moose and an elk chatting irritably about how long these procedures took, an anxious looking otter conversing with another fox and a pair of a tiger and a lioness laughing boorishly at some joke from the far end of the room.
In other words, the atmosphere of the common room was downright suffocating.
It was easy for the bunny to figure out what was happening. Mammals were typically encouraged to actively communicate with the rangers, to express their worries, give pointers to potential criminals or, more commonly, site their numerous complaints, serious or petty, and demand that the rangers work things out. Such complaints were issued far more often than Judy or any of her colleagues would have liked, and dealing with them had for the longest time been the most irritating part of her duties back in the Burrows before she was promoted to her current rank, enabling her to push such tedious work to her juniors with a slight pang of guilt and enormous relief.
Still, in her hometown she had never encountered anything nearly as hectic as what she was now witnessing, let alone so late in the day. Could it be that things were even worse for the local rangers in the earlier hours? Those poor souls…
With the coordinators clearly out of reach at the moment, Judy instead decided to head for the tall brown horse with the yellow feather that stood at the stairs leading to the second floor, looking as intimidating as his comically patterned face would allow; the white spot over his right eye made it look as if he was constantly half-goggling.
She bit back an amused grin as she approached him, pushing and squeezing her way through the lined mammals until she stood before his hooves, greeting him to draw his attention. Either the horse's reaction to a bunny ranger was unexpectedly mild or he really had been goggling all along; Judy really couldn't tell.
She was about to explain her business to him, but to her surprise, the horse addressed her first.
"Hold on! You… You're that bunny!"
A confused blink was all she could manage in response to his delighted exclaim. "I… I am a bunny, yes." She then cleared her throat and straightened her back, intent on giving a proper introduction of herself as per usual.
"Amazing!" Clearly, the horse was not one for formalities.
"Deputy, I am your superior." She pointed out strictly, tapping her foot. "And you will address me properly. Am I understood?"
"Ah, of course! Apologies, ma'am, I- I couldn't help it. I'm sure you understand."
She sure did. "Yeah, whatever. Look, I wish to make a few inquiries, and I can't afford to wait until this whole mess is cleared up." she begun explaining, hiking a thumb towards the noisy center of the common room and neglecting her introductions in the face of the rude ungulate. "I'll need access to your-"
"Sorry to interrupt you, ma'am, but we have been instructed to lead you to the chief should you show up."
Her aggravated stance instantly switched to surprise. "You have- wait." She spoke, her long ears tilting curiously. "Your chief knew of my arrival in the city?"
He nodded; she noticed that his goofy smile was not of malign amusement, but rather excited and friendly.
"The gate's guardsmen informed him yesterday. We have a lot of guys in- Err, you know what? I'm sure he'd like to explain everything himself! Would you follow me, lieutenant?"
She numbly agreed and followed him up the stairs, leaving the commotion of the common room behind them.
"Deputy, I've been in contact with many rangers in this district. Why did no one take me to the chief?"
"It wasn't really an order, strictly speaking." The horse responded merrily. "Word just got out, and we here at the headquarters figured he'd like to see you if you happened to drop by."
Word got out, he said. "… Huh. And why would he like to see me?"
"Obviously, lieutenant," he replied, smiling over his muscular shoulder as they reached the tall building's third floor, "because you're very interesting."
Unsure if she should be flattered or offended, she chose not to respond.
The horse promptly entered the local chief's office to announce her. It took him literally seconds; with her ears at the right angle, Judy could clearly hear the short exchange through the door.
"Chief, she's here! The bunny!"
There was a rustling sound.
"Wha- You serious, Oates?!"
"Unless it's some other bunny ranger, then yeah."
"Well what are you waiting for, dumbass?! Send her in!"
She gave a hop backwards to avoid the panel that swung open with force. The horse, still looking hilariously jesting with his white spot and toothy grin, kept the door open for her and saluted her as she entered before leaving to supposedly return to his post.
Now utterly confused at the chief's apparent fascination with her and with no idea what to expect, Judy allowed herself a second to regain her composure before walking up to the desk and saluting the mammal in question, formally announcing herself and noting that she had, in fact, never met him before in her life.
The Zone's ranger chief was a middle aged boar with a characteristically slovenly appearance. He was unusually short for his species, his skin and ruffled fur were the exact same shade of pitch black and his muzzle was squashed, likely due to an injury sustained in the past. Another injury had taken the tip of his right tusk; the left one, on the other hand, seemed to have been regularly sharpened and it could now pose as serious a threat to an adversary as any predator's fangs.
His desk, much like the entirety of his office, could only be described as an appalling mess. Books were laying all over, furniture had been moved out of place for unimaginable to Judy reasons, and the small pile of crumbled official scrolls resting before him among half eaten fruit were indicative of both the boar's untidy nature as well as his activities before she had been announced by the deputy. Even the room's structure came off as messy, as Judy took notice of a framed shutter on the wall to the chief's right, at a height above his seat; it couldn't have been a window, as the wall was connecting the office to a subsequent room.
She was given the time to take her peculiar environment in as the boar, much like Higgins had before him, left her in her salute for a long time, sizing her up inquisitively. He had hazel eyes, and the way they were framed by the numerous tufts of coarse black fur on his face made it look like they were two glowing yellow spots in a shapeless mass of darkness.
But when they finally rested on her purple ones, she did not flinch away in the slightest.
"You really are small!" He remarked with a deep frown and a heavy chuckle; then he nodded towards the seat before his desk without putting her at ease.
After a short sputter caused by the chief's horrendous disregard for both formal procedures and common courtesy, Judy reluctantly broke her salute and hopped onto the chair, unable to help a light scowl. She then eyed him once more and waited for him to speak again.
"Hopps, do you know who I am?" His voice was raucous to the point of being incomprehensible; Judy noticed that he bore another hideous scar at the base of his neck and figured that was the reason behind his impaired speech.
"I have not been given your name yet, sir, no."
He chuckled softly. It sounded like grating a rasp against rock.
"My name is Walter Tusk. Not Tusks, mind you; fitting, ain't it?" He said, idly gesturing at his broken tusk.
Set as she was on remaining professional, Judy did not allow her brow to furrow. "It's a pleasure, sir." She responded evenly, really unsure as to what she was doing there.
He blinked at her and made a curt nasal grunt; boars, pigs and swines typically avoided oinking but the chief before her didn't seem to give the sound much thought.
"I should be offended, really, but I guess he has never been one to talk much." He stated with a shrug and a crooked smile, adding to her confusion.
She decided she had had enough. "Sir, I was told you wished to see me; or that- that your men figured you'd wish to see me. Do you know me somehow, sir?"
Another loud oink; she supposed it was an expression of mirth. She had never known.
"Right… Apologies, lieutenant. I imagine you're fairly confused right now. My bad!"
"And to answer your question, yes. I do know you, Judy Hopps; or at least know of you. You see," he paused for the dramatic effect, smirking at her, "there's this good friend of mine in the Burrows, and he's been writing to me about the bunny who made the rangers. So when I heard from my people at the gates that some bunny with a feathered cap had entered the city, it got me a little excited is all."
Judy's ears shot up in perfect unison with her brows. The thought of a fan from the Burrows writing about her caused a sear under her face fur, and for a second she struggled to find an appropriately modest response to the revelation; but the boar wouldn't let her.
"So, tell me, Hopps!" He spoke up with his rasp voice, leaning in with an intense, riveted frown. "There was a rhino, yes?"
"A rhino…? Oh! Um… There was, yes. Sir."
"Military man?"
"Ugh, yes."
"And you took him down?"
Her lips would never allow her to break character by grinning proudly at a superior, but the sparkle in her eyes certainly conveyed the emotion just fine. "That is correct, sir."
His frown deepened. "… How?"
Her lips did betray her, in the end. "Have you ever been kicked by a bunny, sir?"
He stared at her perfectly still, just long enough for her to begin wondering if she had gone too far; then a low rumble begun in his chest, gradually growing until it burst through his mouth in a long, loud and monotonous laughter, every bit as coarse as his normal speech. It resembled the sounds of a drowning mammal.
"Spunky indeed!" He exclaimed, repeatedly striking his knee. Judy couldn't decide if the complete absence of any formality bothered her or not, but she eventually settled on appreciating the hearty boar for the stark difference between him and the annoying hippo of Rockwood.
Flattered as she was, however, she had not forgone her intense curiosity. "If I may ask, sir," she begun as the boar's hollers dwindled, "who is this friend of yours that's written you about me?"
"Why, I believe you know him as Buffalo Butt. Or at least, I hope so; I was the one who started that nickname, in case you didn't know!"
She had apparently also dropped all thoughts of formality, because she was now gawking incredulously at him, ears recoiling and mouth agape. "Chief Bogo?!"
"I suppose you'd call him that, yes." He chuckled, amused by her reaction. "We were cadets together in the Savannah. Been exchanging scrolls for a good… Let's see, thirteen? Maybe fourteen years now, ever since he made major and left for the east."
She sputtered anew, feeling the corners of her lips pick up once more as mirth accompanied clarity. "You will be happy to hear that the nickname did catch on, chief." She announced cheerfully, causing another surge of laughs from the boar.
"Why would he not tell you to come to me though?" Tusk wondered.
"Well, sir, I imagine he wanted me to focus on my job. That's kinda his line with every one of us in the Burrows."
"That's exactly it! I would have helped you! Pulled some strings here and there, given you some proper men; I dunno if you've noticed, but the rest of the rangers here are a bunch of plump loafers."
Judy thought he was incredibly likeable for such an ugly mammal.
"I believe he didn't think I'd be nearing the Zone at all, chief. I'm here looking for a ram."
It was his turn to recoil in surprise. "A ram?"
She was now comfortable enough with him to allow herself a desperate eye roll. "Sir please, could I mention my case once without having this reaction? It's getting real dull." She groaned.
"There's a reason for that, Hopps. I've never in all my years come across a criminal sheep! What the hell did he do?"
"Crop theft, smuggling. He led and entire ring back in the Burrows. Real bad egg."
"Hm! And you chased him all the way to Zootopia?"
"Precisely."
"… And you ended up in the Zone."
Her sigh was enough of an answer. "Is it really that unlikely?"
He shuffled in his seat, looking thoughtful. "Oh, there are prey here, as I'm sure you've noticed. Just not… that kind of prey. Too many wolves, I think; and they're just natural cowards."
"I've heard rams can deal some damage if they build up speed."
"Honestly, Hopps? I feel like something this wooly couldn't possibly be truly dangerous." He noticed her buckteeth protruding through a smirk and chuckled once more. "Okay, I see your point. You and your case seem intent on breaking all stereotypes, huh?"
She shook her head appreciatively before getting them back on point. "I have visited a number of nearby outposts to see if there were any sheep standing out, but no luck so far. I figured I'd take a look at your files here, see if there's anything that could be… useful…" She trailed off, seeing the look the boar was giving her.
"It's certainly meticulous of you, lieutenant; and just a little desperate. Have you really got no leads on him?" She shook her head miserably. "Hm… I'm sorry to hear that, Hopps, but this is literally the last place one should come to looking for sheep."
"It is the last place I came to, sir." She gave an exhausted sigh, smiling bitterly at the boar. "It's been a long day."
"I bet. You look like death."
They stayed silent for a minute. "Tell me one more thing: where did he end up sending you to?"
"Rockwood. Yeah…" She nodded somberly at the boar once she saw his grimace.
"To Higgins?" He oinked, shocked. "That stupid hippo couldn't help you catch your sheep if he was living at his headquarters! All this moron knows to do is push papers and hand out promotions!"
Upon closer inspection, Tusk wasn't that ugly by bunny standards, really.
"Chief, I'm planning to come back tomorrow and take a proper look into the Zone and Happytown. Could you help me out in any way?"
He oinked once more; Judy now figured it was more of a nervous tick than an expression of some kind. "Bluntly put, Hopps, no. I cannot describe to you how busy we are around here; did you see the people downstairs?"
"Yeah, I thought so." She was far too weary not to sound dejected.
"Well, it's not like I will deny you assistance, lieutenant." He pointed out with another oink. "I just need you to find something first. Anything will do; evidence, rumors, any kind of pointer. Just give me something to warrant an official response and I will mobilize whatever force I can afford to look for that ram, even if I have to send them all the way to Liberty District."
She gave the boar a thankful smile. "Thank you, sir. I'll turn to you as soon as I find anything."
"Good. One more thing though…"
She raised her ears attentively. "Yes, sir?"
"You mentioned Happytown."
"That is correct."
"No."
She blinked at him. "I… Beg your pardon?"
He stared at her intensely, similar to the way his friend, her chief, would, and spoke as slowly and clearly as his destroyed voice would allow. "No prey goes to Happytown alone. And I don't mean that you bring a carrier, Hopps; I mean you bring a platoon of big, burly rangers or soldiers to keep the chompers away. Preferably both. And by no means are you to investigate anywhere close to the Garden. That is final."
She was about to argue, but the moment she opened her mouth the room shook by a terribly loud noise. It was the toot of an elephant in close proximity; far too close for the bunny's sensitive ears, which she folded immediately as she hopped off the chair in alarm. The boar across her merely gave an annoyed grunt and turned to the wall on his right, yelling.
"What the fuck, Trunkaby?!"
The framed shutter Judy had noticed while walking in opened, pushed by a gray trunk which reluctantly came through it; if it had an expression, it would have been abashment. Then it spoke, it's voice deep yet undeniably feminine. "Apologies, chief, but it wasn't my fault! Oates pulled at my tail again!"
"That fucking horse." Tusk mumbled through his teeth before shouting back at the trunk. "Tell bright eye that he's just earned himself this week's night shifts! All of them!"
A sad neigh could be heard through the shutter as the trunk retreated.
"Francine. She handles most of the paperwork around here, God bless her, but she's a bit jumpy; and Oates is a fucking idiot, but a lovable one at least." He explained merrily to Judy, who was just calming herself down. "You're fairly jumpy yourself, it would seem." He added, tauntingly arching a brow.
She shook her head weakly, chuckling. "I am… Not at the top of my game right now, sir."
"No, you aren't." he agreed. "So get your ass back to Rockwood and get some sleep. If you're still itching to visit my district tomorrow, drop by and we'll have a thorough talk as to why Happytown is a bloody stupid idea."
She nodded tiredly, causing her saggy ears to flutter around her face. "Understood, sir. Thank you."
She got up and made for the door -which she'd have to hop to swing open, sadly-, but she stopped halfway through and turned back to the boar with an inquisitive look. "Sir?"
"Yes, lieutenant?"
"You mentioned some garden, I believe?"
"Come here first thing tomorrow, Hopps, and I'll tell you everything you need to know. Oh!" His face lit up with a sudden inspiration. "Would you like to see the scrolls Buffalo Butt has sent me? He mentions you a lot in the most recent ones!"
She did. She'd kill to read them.
"I don't think chief Bogo would approve of that, sir."
"Yeah, you're right! So, I'll have some copies made for you then. Tomorrow!"
She smiled at the hideously ugly boar, the most beautiful face she'd come across in her first day in the capital. "Right, sir. Good night."
"I heard you're in for a lovely week, bright eye." She shot at the horse deputy she had run into in the corridor, grinning teasingly at him.
He gave her a snort before raising his chin dismissively, comically whipping his blonde forelock. It was clear to Judy that he was this headquarters' proud clown ranger, a position involving a lot of aggressive jokes and love from his fellow coworkers. Sadly, it also got him the occasional extra shift when he went too far; but he didn't regret it.
"If I gave you a good scare, ma'am, it was worth it." he replied in kind, the goofy grin back on his long face.
"I admit to nothing." She said stoically, earning her a pleasant neigh that might have been the silliest laughter she had ever heard.
They went down the stairs together, chatting absently until they reached the common room. Judy noticed that while the crowd had lessened considerably by then, there were still a few mammals lined up before the booths of the coordinators. It really put things in perspective for her, considering the booths back in the Burrows would not even be manned at this hour; it was getting dark outside, and she was thinking she'd have to pay the gnu extra just to shut him up for the rest of the ride. It was Higgins' money, though, so as far as she was concerned, the more the better.
"These guys are still going at it?" She wondered aloud for the horse to hear.
Oates sighed from behind her. "Yeah, some people are just too persistent. And the shit they come at you with, God…! Wouldn't want to be behind those booths, lieutenant, I tell you that."
"Seconded."
She mirrored the horse, meaning to bid him farewell, when suddenly a loud, high pitched plea echoed in the now quieter common room, grabbing her attention.
"Please, sire! It's been four days! You have to do somethin'!"
Judy identified the source of the voice; it was a small otter speaking to the porcupine coordinator behind the booth. The coordinator had an expression of reserved disdain as he gave his calm response, which only seemed to add to the otter's frustration.
She was a female of advanced age, maybe close to fifty, with unkempt brown fur with specks of gray, grimy paws and a broken clownish accent that spoke of poor education, or complete lack thereof. Her speech was made all the more sloppy by her many missing teeth, a sign of both her age and her background, and the ones still in her mouth were yellowed. She was dressed in a number of overlapping threadbare rags which were as dirty and unsavory as herself and a number of cheap, likely makeshift earrings adorned her ears.
As Judy observed the otter, another mammal stood beside her and begun speaking to the porcupine in a far more communicative manner, seeming to be calmly making a request. It was a fox, and he was clearly together with the ragamuffin otter; Judy faintly recalled spotting the pair earlier when she had first entered the headquarters.
The horse behind her gave an exasperated snort. "Gypsies."
Judy arched a brow and eyed the duo curiously, furtively approaching them to make out the conversation between them and the porcupine; she had never seen a gypsy up close, and from what she'd heard it was to be an experience. Her attempts were made significantly easier by the otter's desperate cries.
"Please, mister, you don't understand! We's been here so many times! Ya have to start lookin' for my man!"
The ranger collected his paws from the booth as the otter reached out to grab them; he seemed incredibly uncomfortable. "Ma'am, I feel for you, I really do. But we simply cannot look for such a small missing mammal with no clues to go on!"
"We might be able to help you on that end, sir." The fox cut in with a stable tone, gingerly resting a paw on the otter's shoulder to hush her. "You haven't actually taken our statements, that's why we're here. And we have reason to believe it's an abduction, sir, not just a disappearance."
"That's right!" The otter confirmed, nodding frantically. "We think we knows who took him too, sire! It'll help ya find him!"
The porcupine took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. "Listen- We cannot currently open an investigation for a missing otter from Happytown. We can't afford the people or the time, regrettably. And I'm sorry to say that, ma'am, but if your husband really did go missing in Happytown… Well…" He shrugged apologetically and allowed his voice to drift off, his insinuation leaving the fox with a troubled frown and the otter with a puzzled one.
"What do ya mean, sire?"
"He means he's likely been killed by some of your ilk, gypsy, so what's the point in looking for him?"
The insensitive explanation had come from a ranger that stood guard at a nearby door; a young bull with a white feathered cap and especially large horns who had been listening to the trio for a long time, growing increasingly aggravated at the two predators and their persistence.
"Wha- no! Of course not, sire, my folk would never-"
"Now now, Mrs. Otterton," The fox interrupted her, wrapping an arm around her. "The rangers are clearly very busy today. We will just have to come back later, yes?"
He moved to guide the otter towards the exit, smiling submissively at the bull; he had spotted the look on the latter's face and immediately recognized the need to distance themselves from him.
"But- But we's been here so many times already!" The otter complained with teary eyes, resisting the fox. "It's been four days! He could be hurt! He could be dead!"
"He likely is, lady. We're terribly sorry. Now move along, there are others waiting." The bull blurted out from his corner.
"But maybe he ain't!"
The otter managed to slip away from the fox, ignoring his hushed warnings, and darted towards the bull, pulling at his trousers in a final desperate plea for help.
"There's so many of ye rangers in the streets! If ya just had them keep-"
She couldn't complete her sentence as the bull aggressively pushed her away with a loud grunt, nearly sending her flying. The fox moved quickly, managing to grab her before she fell, and then hurriedly struggled to set the crying otter back her on her feet, putting himself between her and the advancing bull.
"Don't touch me, you filthy gypsy scum!" The ranger bellowed angrily, taking a step forward. "We get enough trouble from your kind as it is! He told you there's nothing we can do for your man, so get lost!"
The fox supported the shocked, stammering female as they tried to make their way through the lines of mammals, a paw raised in the direction of the bull to signal their unconditional retreat. "We're leaving. We're leaving." he repeated again and again, calmly, trying to placate the aggressive ranger.
Judy had so far been observing the scene without interfering. She wasn't from around these parts and she couldn't claim to understand the workings of the district or the situations the local rangers faced there, so she didn't feel comfortable calling them out on their methods. That was why she had chosen not to comment on the porcupine's clear reluctance to listen to the predators' request or his wildly unprofessional contempt for the otter, which he had done a very poor job at obscuring.
But the bull's case was different. The abuse of a citizen -any kind of citizen- was one of the core taboos of the rangers' order, and she believed that it's blatant violation, such as that she had just witnessed, warranted an altogether expulsion from the order; she was actually shocked to see that none of the other rangers in the room had made a move yet. Finally realizing that it was up to her, she took in a deep, angry breath, ready to call at the bull and demand his name.
Then the otter spoke one last time in a loud, broken shriek from over the fox's shoulder.
"But- Sire! We even- But we even know who it was!"
"Sire, t'was that sheep!"
Judy was looking at the bull when she heard those lines. She saw his face contort in a sarcastic scoff, identical to the one she had been getting all day whenever she mentioned her case and her perpetrator; but she didn't hear his response.
For a second, she couldn't hear anything.
"Cadet!"
Her bawl had such unexpected volume that it left her throat taut. In an instant every ranger and citizen in the room, including the bull and his two victims, had stopped whatever they were doing and were either staring at her or scanning the room for the source of the holler, unable to spot the short mammal.
The bull, for once, had spotted her right away and recognized her from his chief's descriptions after a mere second.
"Oh… Oh! You're-"
"Give me your name, cadet." She demanded sternly, cutting him off as she approached him.
"I- What?"
"Your name, cadet! Now!" She yelled at him once more, clenching her paws in fists shaking with fury; and, unbeknownst to anyone but herself, excitement. "And an explanation for not saluting your superior. A really fucking good one, I hope!"
He hurriedly saluted her and gave his name with a completely justified sense of foreboding that had him shaking under his green cap.
What followed was a sight to behold for everyone present. None of them would ever forget the scene of a bunny reducing a bull to a whimpering mess, locking him in a salute and yelling bloody murder at him before sending him off to the resting chambers, promising to do everything in her power to relieve him of his feather. The bull himself least of all, as the bunny's large, violet eyes, which should by all means have caused him nothing but a warm buzz in the stomach, had been aflame in a way that would haunt him for a long time afterward.
Judy didn't waste any time addressing the frozen porcupine next. "Coordinator, why have you refused to take these people's statements?" She asked him with a berating frown the porcupine realized was incredibly mild, considering the execution he had just witnessed.
"They- Well, um… As I told them, lieutenant, we cannot currently afford the men to look into-"
"We can now." She cut him off curtly. "I will be taking on their case."
The porcupine sputtered incoherently for a second. "The- Ma'am, this is hardly a job for a lieutenant! I'm sure there-"
Her gaze was intense enough to stop him on his tracks. He swallowed thickly.
"I am not from any local branch." She announced, her voice growing progressively calmer, now portraying decisiveness rather than rage. "I have my own assignments, and I judge that I can handle them and this otter's case just fine. Will that be a problem, coordinator?"
Given the context, it would be difficult for the porcupine to tell the lieutenant that it was. Not to mention, it really wasn't; she would just be relieving the locals from a minor bother.
"No, ma'am. Of course not."
"Good!" She said with finality before turning away from the ranger and towards the small crowd of mammals, who were all staring openly at her. She payed them no mind as she scanned the room for the fox and the otter.
She spotted them exactly where they had stood when she had first yelled at the bull, frozen in place just like everyone else in the room. She made towards the duo with an animated pace, absently noting that her thundering heartbeat meant she was still young enough to get her fifth wind after all.
"T'is- T'is a tiny hare lady, Nicky!" The otter whispered in the fox's ear, awe coloring her voice. Judy could hear her just fine as she approached.
"I believe it's called a bunny, Mrs. Otterton." He replied, not bothering to hush his tone, eyes set on the mammal in question.
"Hello, miss. My name is Judith Larvene Hopps, ranger lieutenant of the Burrows province." she begun formally as soon as she reached them, addressing the otter. "I'd like to apologize on behalf of the cadet. He will be reprimanded properly, I assure you."
"Oh, I'd say he was reprimanded plenty." The fox quipped with a smirk, but was completely ignored.
"You's a lieutenant?" The otter asked her, confused.
"I am, ma'am. And I'd like to look into your case." The small predator gasped with delight and instantly grabbed her paws -she had a thing for grabbing others, it would seem, like an obnoxious beggar- and although Judy was bothered by how dirty they were, she gave no sign of it.
Instead, she went straight to the point. "You mentioned a sheep, I believe? Some sheep took your husband?"
"Yes! Yes! T'was a sheep, lieutenant, some crafty, shady sheep, I'm sure! Ya don't believe me, lieutenant, but it really was! On my word!"
"Easy, miss. Easy." Judy calmed her down, still holding her paws in her own. "I'll take your statements now, but not here. Follow me, if you will."
"So, then. Let us begin with your name, miss…?"
"T'is Mary Otterton, dearie."
Judy dipped her quill in the black ink and begun taking notes on the blank scroll before her, using the light from a fresh candle that burned next to her paw. She was mirroring the gypsy otter from across a table in the headquarters' refectory, which she had emptied just for the three of them; she liked her privacy when collecting possible clues.
"Okay. And your husband's name?"
"Emmett. Emmett Otterton."
"… Right. When did he disappear?"
"Four days ago, dearie." She apparently fancied calling her "dearie", and Judy wasn't bothered, considering the otter's age.
"He was runnin' our shop down at Happytown. A little bakery, it is, at the western wing. There ain't much work there, so I take some loafs and head to the Zone every day to try an' sell something extra. Only-" She paused, tearing up again. "Only four days ago, I- I came back to the bakery and he was gone!" she wailed. "Folk said he hadn't opened up shop at all!"
The fox, who was not seated and instead stood above Mary, gently placed a clawed paw on her shoulder, calming her fit. He had told Judy that he had no statement to give himself, but was only looking out for the otter, keeping her safe and lucid. It was clear that she was not well from a mental standpoint, but the fox seemed to be able to work around her various little episodes, so she had allowed him to be present. Now she was glad she had.
"What did you do then, miss?"
"Why, I looked for him! Nicky here came along to help me, and we's been looking together, but there's- he wasn't anywhere, and the other rangers wouldn't help for shite!" She sniffled and gave her yet another thankful look. "God bless ya, dearie. You've a good heart."
Judy smiled back at her; she was so disoriented and repulsive, the poor thing, but there wasn't a drop of evil in her.
"I'm sure that sheep took him out of the Zone, that's why we couldn't find him anywhere!" She added with an angry scowl.
Judy's ears picked up. "Right, the sheep. Can you tell me how they fit into the story? For starters, is it a male or a female?"
"Oh, I don't know, dearie, I haven't seen 'em myself. Emmett spoke of some sheep the day before, is all."
Here we go. "What did he say?"
"He was gonna to do some business with 'em the morning he disappeared. I told him that it was nuts, that no sheep would come this south, that I didn't like it. And I was right!"
"Business? Was the sheep a customer?"
"Oh no, they-"
She suddenly paused, blinking as if she remembered something; then she reluctantly turned towards the fox -Nicky, she had called him- and gave him a questioning look, as if asking for permission. He looked back at her and, after a moment's hesitation, nodded at her to continue. Before Judy could pry into the curious exchange, the otter resumed.
"He was gonna… Sell some things to the sheep. Some stuff we- we find… Every now and then."
"It's illegal, lieutenant." The fox added evenly, stating the obvious. "Gypsies procure their merchandise a number of ways, but it's typically illegal work. I'm sure this comes as a shock," he went on with an easy grin, "but I hope we can focus on finding the man before dragging him in a cell. Isn't that right?"
She held his gaze for a second. Past the grin, there was nothing she could make of him.
"I appreciate your honesty, sir; and no, I don't plan to press on that subject right now. Finding him is a priority."
Mary, who had been holding her breath since the fox had spoken to the ranger so openly, breathed a sigh of relief. The fox, on the other hand, merely stared on, the grin still on his lips.
Staring, grinning; almost as if with a hidden meaning.
Judy forced herself to focus back on the otter. "Where was he going to meet that sheep?"
"I… I dunno, dearie. Never told me."
She held back the urge to bite her lip. "Did he mention anything else about the sheep?"
"No, nothing."
Goddammit all.
"Do you have anything else to add, miss?"
The otter meekly shook her head. "I's… I don't think so, no."
"So, to recapitulate: your husband was going to conduct some illegal business with a mysterious sheep, he disappeared the morning the business was to take place, and you have been actively looking for him in the Zone ever since with no results."
"And Happytown, also." The fox spoke once more. "There are many people looking for him. He's not in either district, we can be sure of that."
Her ears quivered in his direction. "Many people? As in?"
He shrugged. "Many. Loads of gypsies in Happytown, as I'm sure you're aware."
She narrowed her eyes at him, skeptical. "So in just four days from the man's disappearance, the entire gypsy community mobilized to look for him?"
"Oh, we's all real close down in Happytown! Everyone's been such a great help."
"… I see."
She made some final notes on her scroll, asked for Emmett Otterton's description and then finally placed her quill on the table and stood up. "Thank you for your cooperation, both of you. We're done here."
"Will you find him, dearie?" Asked the otter in an expectant tone that made the bunny uncomfortable.
"I will try, miss. I will be keeping an eye out for otters and suspicious sheep outside the Zone, I promise." The sheen of hope her words brought out in the elderly mammal's eyes caused her a light pang of guilt. In truth, the inexcusably rude bull had been right; Emmett Otterton was likely a lost cause.
But hopefully the enigmatic sheep wasn't.
They walked back into the common room, now pleasantly silent with the citizens and most of the rangers gone. The porcupine was still behind his booth, and Judy moved towards him after seeing the two predators off, enduring many of Mrs. Otterton's very physical expressions of gratitude; on a side note, she felt like she could use a bath. She meant to leave the scroll from her largely disappointing questioning session for copying and archiving.
As she handed the scroll over, she wondered what connection her ram could possibly have with the sheep Mrs. Otterton had spoken of. Her husband's disappearance or alleged kidnapping had occurred shortly after the date of her ram's arrival in the city, but this was likely a coincidence. On the other hand, if criminal sheep truly were as unheard of as everyone claimed, then she could not yet pass the otter's story over as irrelevant.
She had to ruminate on it. And to do that properly, she had to sleep, which in turn meant that she had to ask the porcupine where she could hire a carrier at this hour, because she had had a ranger send her gnu back to his agency about an hour ago. It was only fair, she thought, as she had broken her promise to him; it was well into the night now, and the light from the small candles on the booths did little to illuminate the wide, spacey common room.
As she was wondering if she should ask for a bed there at the headquarters rather than head back to her inn in Rockwood, a voice came from behind her.
"You're a bunny."
It was a good voice to hear; easy on the ears, smooth, calm and fetching. There was no mistaking it's owner.
Judy turned to face the fox she thought had left along with the otter. She immediately noticed Mrs. Otterton standing at the large door, likely told to wait for her companion; she also noticed the underlying mirth in the fox's eyes as he beckoned her, and the slight upward curve of his lips.
Damn thing figured he'd take the time to pull her leg.
"And you're a fox." She retorted idly, folding her ears in annoyance.
"Guess we've both been given the short end of the stick, huh?"
His response came with no time lag whatsoever, like the words have been sitting at the tip of his tongue since before she had finished speaking. He was impressively glib.
"I don't think of being a bunny as a hindrance, sir." She replied with an air of defiance.
"You don't?" He playfully arched a brow, grin slowly forming. "I imagine it makes it hard to be taken seriously, lieutenant."
She grinned back at him. "That problem is easily solved once people meet me, sir."
His shoulders shook by an inaudible chuckle; it was like the better she responded, the more she satisfied him. Her eyes momentarily flickered to his sharp teeth; they were a full set, white and healthy, and seemed capable of a decent bite. Apart from her expected discomfort, she found herself curiously considering the fox's appearance.
He had a fur of reddish orange save for the creamy white at the lower half of his face and the black at his paws and the tips of his pointy ears. It was thick, rich and even, peaking at his especially puffy tail; a natural quality he had clearly cared for to preserve and enhance, much like the teeth that had first grabbed her attention. His eyes were a bright green, standing out in the red of his figure.
It was impossible to determine his age. The linings of his face spoke of an older mammal, but the unremitting hint of mischief in his every word and gesture betrayed a youthful disposition. He could be anything between twenty five and forty.
His build was not the least bit intimidating. He had over a head on her, naturally, but he was rather thin, sporting a slender build that lacked some of the average bulk of his kind. He didn't seem the fighter, and Judy believed she would have no problem overpowering him should the need arise; he wasn't much stronger than her, compared to other mammals she'd faced in the past, and she was certainly faster.
Most notably, he carried himself with an air of confidence mirrored in his feint smirk, which seemed to be ever present, as well as in his fluid gait and precise gesticulating. It was almost regal, in a way, and certainly not befitting a supposed gypsy.
The same went for his clothes, a simple green tunic and tan trousers held in place by a thin rope; cheap articles of poor quality that managed to fit him just right, further bringing out his eyes. Just like himself, they were clean and spruced up despite their subtlety, worlds apart from the rags of Mary Otterton or most of the outfits she had seen on predators in the streets. They were by no means a sign of wealth, but rather of taste and care put into one's appearance.
And that care had payed of. If Judy, a bunny, would think of him as handsome, then she could only imagine the impression he would make on a vixen.
Ever since she had begun taking Mary Otterton's statements she had wondered by what peculiar twist of fate the fox could have ended up with her, as it was strikingly difficult to associate the two. One was ragamuffin and dirty, the other was neatly dressed and clean. One would totter giddily while the other had an airy posture, adroit and comfortable in his skin. One could hardly put together a coherent sentence, while the other was arguably the most articulate mammal she had met in Zootopia so far.
It was a real shame he was using that commendable eloquence of his to get on her nerves.
"Are there other ranger bunnies where you come from, lieutenant?" He asked her with a false front of polite curiosity. "Are they all as jittery as you?"
She wasn't going to play his game. "I am not looking for idle chit chat at this time, sir." She said curtly, meaning to bring the pointless exchange to an end. "It's been a long day, and I need to rest. Goodnight."
"A long day, huh?" He repeated breezily as she turned her back on him, intent on ignoring the rest of his words.
"Guess sheep are pretty evasive! Who'd have thought?"
A loud click echoed in her head for the second time in a day. Her foot was left hanging.
Staring. Grinning.
Almost as if-
She mirrored him slowly, reluctantly, numbed by the sudden rush of interest that washed over her. She scanned his face with complete advertency, looking for the hidden meaning that had evaded her thus far.
His grin widened, eyes narrowing at her bewilderment; he seemed pleased, as if her reaction had confirmed a suspicion of his.
"Oh?" The soft exclaim bubbled out of his throat as she took a step closer, carefully noting every twitch of his vulpine features with a deepening frown. They locked eyes; a standoff of green and purple, colliding in a silent struggle to pierce through each other and into the secrets they each hid.
Judy's approach was to be the most direct.
"You know something."
"I never said that…" He puckered his lips, the taunting countenance contradicting his claim of ignorance.
Another forceful step forward. "You know something."
It wasn't a question and they both knew it. She kept on examining his face, searching for a chip on the smiling mask, a hint that he would drop meaningless pretense and speak clearly.
She found what she was looking for. His gaze wavered momentarily; then the grin slowly lost it's curve, eventually dropping to a thin, toothless line. He blinked, averting his eyes from hers with a curt, frustrated sigh. He took a quick look over his shoulder, his ears folding and then standing on end, ready to catch any sound of approaching footsteps.
Judy had been in the game long enough to recognize this behavior; worry and indecisiveness, the last signs of reluctance before the questioned party cracked. She had broken through.
"Okay." His tone was hushed, cautious, unsure. He leaned closer, whispering straight into one of her rigid ears. "Listen, I- I could get in trouble for this…"
"Trouble? With whom?" She whispered back, still skewering him with an intense, attentive gaze.
"The folk down at Happytown." He noticed the question on her face. "The gypsies." He elucidated with an impatient click of the tongue.
"I was just supposed to look after her, but… This is getting us nowhere, and it seems like you could help." He continued, nodding towards the otter patiently waiting near the entrance.
"I-Yes! Of course I can help! Just tell me!" She encouraged him, grabbing his arm, rapt in the thrill of unexpectedly stumbling upon a new lead.
"I can't just tell you, bunny! That's not how it works!" He lashed at her quietly, retrieving his arm. His visible trepidation only added to her eagerness; she could hardly stop the nervous tap of her foot against the wooden floor.
"We don't- we deal with our own issues, lieutenant. We're generally not very fond of rangers."
She could see him wavering once more. This was unfortunate; had she perhaps pushed too hard…? In any case, she wasn't going to let this one slip through her paws. She narrowed her eyes menacingly, settling on a different approach.
"Sir, if I suspect you're withholding information on a criminal, I could see you arrested here and now." She stated harshly.
Her experience had taught her that threats worked wonders on mammals that had lost their composure, and the fox was clearly standing on shaky grounds.
So naturally, she had not planned for him to respond with yet another devilish grin.
"Now now, lieutenant." He retorted, shaking his head with playful reproach, as if admonishing a thoughtless kit. "That would be a serious misstep on your part. Why make an enemy out of a potential friend?"
Her approach had backfired, and that was always reason enough to be annoyed; but by all that is holy, did that smug asshole of a fox not play his part.
She shot him a thunderous look. "Should I take that as a threat, fox?"
Thankfully for the both of them, the fox was quick to forsake his grin and turn serious once more. "You most certainly should not. I am in no position to threaten you, lieutenant; not to mention, I do need your help."
"Well, if you won't talk to me, then I don't see how this is gonna work."
"I can't tell you, no; but I can show you."
He paused and beckoned her with a shrouded expression, contemplating, weighing his options. Judy could only wait for him to reach a decision.
He took a deep breath and held it, shutting his eyes. Upon releasing it, the nervous wag of his tail came to a stop and his shoulders sank, free of tension and uncertainty. She saw it in his eyes when he looked back at her; he had made up his mind.
"I'm- God, I'm really sticking my neck out here, but…" Another breath. Another struggle to steel himself. "… Come find me tomorrow, before sundown. There's this inn in the eastern Zone called The Rabid Drinker. Big thing, made of stone, you can't miss it. Go there and ask for Slick. I'll be waiting."
And with that final rushed, furtive whisper, he promptly turned tail and made for the door, taking her by surprise.
"Wha- Hold on a second!" She called angrily, stepping after him. "You can't expect me to just-"
"I will get you a sheep, lieutenant."
He spoke to her over his shoulder without so much as a jib. She stopped as if she had hit a wall.
He spared her a short, telling glance before disappearing into the night, keeping an arm around the fragile elderly otter who was already blabbering on about who knows what. Judy, left staring after him wide eyed, caught the discreet movement of his lips the second before he walked out the enormous door.
Tomorrow.
"Cripes, dear, you look like death!"
Adeline was always eager to please the rangers she accommodated, so the discourteous comment must have been genuinely spontaneous. She had been putting together a plate of fresh grass, an order made by the rowdy group of oxes that occupied three of her larger tables, but the second she had caught wind of Judy's late arrival and momentarily turned her attention to the bunny, ready to smile and offer her dinner, she blurted the words before she could stop herself.
The kangaroo brought a paw over her mouth and begun stammering in an attempt to mitigate any offense she had caused the ranger, but Judy simply chuckled weakly and put her at ease.
"You're the second mammal to tell me that today, Mrs. Adeline, so it must be true enough." She joked, dragging her feet over to the counter.
"Long day, miss Hopps?"
"Longest of my life."
Adeline yelled a warning at one of the oxes who was banging his table with force in a fit of hysterical laughter. Then she turned her attention back at the grass she was to serve them.
"You sound like you could use a drink." She suggested without looking at the exhausted bunny.
"I bet I could, but I'll have to pass. I will be on duty tomorrow."
"Alright, dear. Need another wake up call?"
She peeked over at Judy and saw her head wobbling on her tiny shoulders; she was giving her a dramatically unamused stare.
"… Or maybe a late morning would be better?"
The bunny's buckteeth showed in a soft smile, signaling her approval.
She denied the kangaroo's offer of fresh radishes and only asked that she have a bath ready for her when she woke up. Then she drowsily made her way to her room, abandoning her garments with uncharacteristic carelessness and gracelessly throwing herself on the neatly made bed; the entire process took her less than five seconds. She hadn't even glanced in the direction of the mighty castle outside her window.
She had a head splitting headache, her whole body felt cramped and she was pretty sure she lacked the energy to shift under the covers and get to a more comfortable sleeping position; but despite all that, she had yet to stop thinking.
Absently thinking about the carrots she had given to Logger, which he had likely left for her at the headquarters. She would go pick them up first thing tomorrow.
Making a mental note not to forget to bring her scarf with her the next day, even if the morning -or the noon, more likely- felt relatively warm.
And, of course, thinking about the Zone. About the friendly, likeable boar and the shady, mysterious fox, both of whom had asked for a meeting with her.
Tusk had her best interests in mind, and was sure to advice her well. He had no pointers to give her per se, but he would properly explain how things worked around his district, and possibly around Happytown; not to mention, he had promised her a series of desirable documents that would create some interesting situations back in the Burrows.
But he would never approve of the fox's invitation. He had made his opinions about predators abundantly clear, and Judy knew he would either assign some of his men to join her in her meeting, which was certain to keep the fox from ever showing up in the first place, or just downright forbid that she attends it. She couldn't blame him, really; there was nothing about the fox that didn't spell suspicious.
Only, Tusk hadn't seen the guy. He hadn't seen the genuine despair once he had dropped his mask, his reluctance, the effort it had taken him just to ask for her help.
And more importantly, Tusk hadn't promised her a sheep.
What did he mean by that anyway?
She couldn't imagine, and the possibilities ate away at her, somersaulting in her mind one after another, taunting her, daring her to go out there and find the truth.
Tomorrow.
This was the most promising hint of a lead she had gotten by far. Every other aspect of her investigation had been so painfully stagnant that she could not bear to ignore a potential breakthrough; even if it came in the form of a rather vexing fox that had likely gotten himself mixed up in something he couldn't handle.
But it could be a trap.
Supposing this really was some kind of trap, what would he hope to gain from it? Did harming her hold some merit to him? No, she got no such vibe from him, and she had learnt to trust in her gut. Not to mention, with that many able enforcers in the district, the thought of a ranger being randomly attacked in an inn seemed highly unlikely; she had seen first hand how safe prey felt in the Zone, despite what the other citizens believed. Indeed, it's not like she would be jumping head first into the lawless Happytown.
Besides, she had to proceed with her investigation. That was her number one priority.
But then again, she would also hate to affirm the rumors pertaining to her innate recklessness; and, of course, she would hate to die a stupid, meaningless death. That, too.
The thoughts and dilemmas swirled around in her brain, hurtling behind closed eyes and between languid ears, softly lulling her into a deep sleep rife with vague, colorful dreams.
When she woke up a full twelve hours later, feeling thoroughly reinvigorated and positively famished, there was a single question floating before her eyes, a remnant of either her dreams or the somnolent musings of the night before.
Who the hell is Slick?
In the clarity of a new day, she realized she was determined to find out.
So come the night, this bunny would be hopping straight back into the den of claws and teeth.
-Chapter 2 End-
So apparently, writing really is considered a legitimate therapy method. "Expressive Writing".
I never had a doubt.
As always, every review is heartily appreciated.
