A/N: Once again we join the crazy shenanigans that is TES:Zootopia. Muwhahahahaha!

Disclaimer: Something something something don't own anything. Something something peanut butter Welch's grape jelly time.

Chapter...6? I think? - I ain't 'fraid of no goats (no goats were harmed in this chapter since there aren't any)

"This bites." Judy the Dragonbun was currently locked up in the Whiterun dungeon for shouting at the guards. "See I don't get that. Why is yelling at some mammals worth a jail sentence?"

"You didn't yell," the jailor nearby stated. "You shouted."

"Shout. Yell. Raise your voice to get the attention of a meditating yak. It's all the same thing." The jailor was having a hard time not raising his brow at the way the bunny acted so calmly about assaulting a bunch of citizens of a whole town.

"A yell is just you getting angry and screaming like a petulant child. A shout from a Dragonborn or any who have learned the language of the Dragons, can kill with ease. So 'shouting' in front of everyone and knocking some to their knees looks pretty bad." Turning away from the cell, the guard pulled out his new tablet. "I love getting new chapters but can't they simply use a book like everybody else? Chiseling into stone makes these stories take so much longer."

Judy walked over to the stone wall and kicked it in frustration. She then spent the next several minutes hopping up and down, cursing in the most colorful language. French. It would be Russian because the amount of curse words in Russian is just downright disturbing but she never learned Russian so it's French.

It leveled part of a mountain, the very same mountain she was stan-...wait...we aren't at that part yet. Okay, ignore that, the script was out of order.

Pulling a lockpick from behind her ear, Judy kneeled in front of the small cage door and began to fiddle with the lock. "Why is this a Master lock? I only have the one lockpick! I am so screwed." Carefully, very carefully, insanely carefully she rotated the pick, feeling the mechanism shift beneath her paws. Wow, I'm doing this. A master lock first try, with barely any training! Judy thought ecstatically. A sudden click, one far louder than she expected, caused the metal door to rumble and vibrate. With a wide smile, Judy pushed on the iron bars...only to find them rock steady. "Wha-what just happened?" she said looking confused.

Just then the jail guard turned the corner and approached the cell door. "Wow. I can't believe I forgot to lock your door. You could have just walked out no problem." Inserting the key into the lock, he was surprised to find it already locked. "Did you lock it for me? Wow. You are one honest criminal Ms. Dovabun. Thank you. Ummm..." he hesitated while glancing over his shoulder. "Don't tell my boss, okay? He's my dad and I just got promoted from shoveling horse poo."

Meanwhile, In Cyrodiil, 200 years in the past, Nick the fox was currently laying down in a field, lazily spending his time gazing at the clouds.

"I'm not lazily resting on the ground. I had to pick up this 45 pound piece of armor which put me over my apparent god-like strength of 350 pounds. And I say god-like because I am an 80 pound FOX! I can't lift 350 pounds! So now I'm on the ground with a strained back and you are criticizing me." Crossing his arms the tod turned his head away in a huff.

A stiff breeze, almost like a frustrated sigh, blew over the fox and knocked loose a health potion from the ridiculously large and bulging bag strapped to his waist. Immediately the fox grabbed up the potion, pulled the stopper, and drank it.

Nick looked at the bottle in exasperation. "I'm tired. Can't I just stay here?"

The fox drank it. Drink!

"Okay okay. Fine." Tipping back the bottle, Nick drained it in one shot, although it was a small bottle designed for minimum healing, just enough to handle a strained back. Gaining his feet, the now recuperated mammal reached into his what must be a magical sack and extricated a heavy piece of armor before dropping it to the ground with a large thud. "I don't need the gold and I'm not wearing that thing, so it's staying on the ground. Capiche?"

Having exhausted all of the Italian he knew, the tod ambled along to find his next adventure, since I'm assuming he's not going to Kvatch to shut down the gate, is he? Yeah you just shake that head, you red-furred pain in the a- ahem so he continued on his way until he reached an old ruined fort. Usually these old forts have been taken over by bandits or necromancers. This one has vampires in it, but using third person narrative in first person, Nick has no idea. Let's watch and see what happens.

Pulling open the heavy door, Nick ventured into the darkened entrance hall. In front of him lay a set of stone stairs going down deeper into the abyss. Before he started down, his strong canine nose picked out a distinct scent. Rat, he thought to himself. Using his keen night vision, Nick pinpointed the creature and hunkered down low while pulling out his bow.

Nocking an arrow, Nick waited until the rodent came to a stop in his patrol. The torchlight glinted off his miniature steel armor which, at any other time, the fox would have found hilarious, but now he used it to target his aim. Settling the point of his arrow on the mammal, he let the projectile fly. With a speed unmatched in this world of medieval spells and steel, it pierced the rat's head. The target was so small that the entire head was actually ripped off which is just friggin nasty.

Nick seemed to be of the same opinion as he turned a bit green before swallowing what was most likely a very disgusting ball of ick. He didn't have time to worry about it however. The clang from the arrowhead against the wall after it had passed through the rat's...head and kept going had alerted other mammals just down the hall. Three more appeared quickly. A jackrabbit, whose front buck teeth were now gleaming fangs, a coyote whose fangs were now...fangs... and a cow, whose udder was tipped by four sharp fangs and this story is getting really weird. Is this the original script?

Ahem moving on. The jackrabbit moved towards their fallen comrade and cried out in terror/rage/confusion/boredom. "Holy cow!"

"I'm an unholy cow, thank you very much," said the offended bovine.

"Not you. Look at Reggie! His freakin head is gone!" Reaching over and picking up the bloody arrow, he snarled, an impressive feat for the herbivore. "It just happened too. The mammal must be around here still!"

The other canine in the room turned on the spot, using his own enhanced night vision to see into the darkness. "There! I see hi-!" He was cut off as another arrow pierced his widened eye. Without even a dying croak, the coyote fell over. Vampires or not, the prey mammals spooked and ran for the hills, or in this case deeper into the fort since the hills outside were currently covered in sunlight.

Nick let out a grin, knowing he had them on the run. Pulling his sword, he charged into the dark.

"Are you frigging kidding me? I'm not running in there! There's probably fifty vampires in there!" He was exaggerating as there was actually only 32 left. "32! Fine! I ain't going after 32 vampires in the dark." Okay, okay. No more vampires. "Thank you."

...SUDDENLYTENVAMPIRESLEAPINTOTHEROOM!

Nick, surrounded and outnumbered, shook his sword at the ceiling. "Get me out of here!"

A blinding light appeared and enveloped the frantic canine. He felt a strong pulling sensation before landing on a cold stone floor. Looking up, he only had time to register a set of iron bars in front of him before coming face to face with a gray bunny wearing a horned helmet. The two of them froze, each looking deep into the other's eyes...

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!"