A knock on the wall of her cubicle interrupted her Savage Mammal Report. This time, like most, Chief Bogo stood there, leaning onto the wall while he spoke.
"Come on, Hopps," his usual gruff voice greeted Judy as she spun around to face him. When she did, he motioned toward the exit with a jerk of his head. "The new mayor wants to see us."
"The mayor?" Judy asked. A slight nod from Bogo confirmed what she'd heard. "Why?"
"It would seem you've arrived," said the buffalo. He turned to leave, leading the way toward the office exit. She didn't much like the sound of that, finding it far too confusing, but she hoped it wouldn't be quite as weird as she was thinking.
When she got out to the lobby and saw Clawhauser packing his belongings into a box, Judy's heart, and ears, dropped immediately. "Clawhauser..?" Judy stepped closer, her mind buzzing with worry. "What are you doing?"
"Um..." The cheetah looked down at her for a moment, almost appearing annoyed, but continued after taking in a breath. "They thought it would be better," the cheetah blinked rapidly, pausing for an extra moment, "if a predator, such as myself, wasn't the first face that you see when you walk into the ZPD."
Her mind flashed back to that moment a couple weeks ago with the moose. " What?"
"They're.. gonna move me to records," he continued. If the cheetah wasn't on the verge of crying, he sure could act like it. He turned around with his box. "It's downstairs. It's by the boiler."
Judy was about to say something until the Chief called her away. "Hopps!" No time for consoling friends, apparently. The bunny took one last look at the cheetah before turning to follow the cape buffalo.
When the two arrived at City Hall, Mayor Bellwether presented Judy with a ZPD flyer that held her own beaming face right in the middle.
"I don't understand," Judy spoke in a quiet voice. She laid the flyer back down on the desk and looked up at the sheep.
"Our city is ninety percent prey, Judy," Bellwether began, "and right now, they're just really scared. You're a hero to them." A sense of deja vu approached as the mayor spoke. "They trust you. And that's why," she paused for a moment, glancing at Chief Bogo as she smiled. "Chief Bogo and I want you to be the public face of the ZPD."
"I'm— not..." Judy started, too stunned for words. The irony of Chief Bogo suddenly hoping for so much after initially not believing in her at all was not lost on her, but at this point, she couldn't bring herself to care. "I'm not a hero." Deep breath. "I came here to make the world a better place," she spoke slowly, cautiously, eyes shifting from the flyer to her hands to the two mammals in front of her. "But I think I broke it."
"Don't give yourself so much credit, Hopps," the chief leaned toward her, expression touched with a hint of a smile. "The world has always been broken. That's why we need good cops." He paused for a moment. "Like you."
Normally she would be ecstatic to hear such a compliment, but Judy couldn't rightfully accept it. "With... all due respect, sir," her voice wavered a bit. "A good cop is supposed to serve and protect... Help the city." She exhaled. "Not.. Tear it apart." When Judy looked down at the badge on her chest, she knew what she needed to do. "I don't deserve this badge."
She was already beginning to remove the badge before either of the others could speak.
"Hopps..."
"Judy," Bellwether seemed just as taken aback as Chief Bogo. "You've worked so hard to get here. It's what you wanted since you were a kid." The sheep seemed to be trying to make eye contact, but Judy couldn't. "You can't quit."
With only a glance upward at the other two when she laid the badge down, Judy sighed softly, hoping neither of them heard. "Thank you for the opportunity."
The ride home on the subway felt surreal. Her chest felt physically lighter, the weight of her badge absent, but emotionally heavier, held down by the guilt she felt for the city's state of separation between predator and prey. She doubted anything could really fix this, and her withdrawal from the ZPD said as much.
Nothing about the possibility of her keeping the badge seemed right, though. She realized, now, that she'd done this to the city. Caused a rift, took away the land's meaning. Even if it was just her being self conscious (it probably wasn't), Judy could feel all eyes on her on her commute home.
She was sure they knew her. She hated it, but almost every publication in town had put her story in a feature, and of course none of them mentioned Nick. It was her, one bunny who somehow found all the savage mammals and and inspired opposition of their "primitive, savage" instincts nested "in their DNA." Her own words. She hated that.
The city no longer held the appeal it once had. Nothing gleamed or glistened about the fact that prey now frequently cowered or became angry in the presence of predators. Nothing said "Anyone can be anything," not with the way predators were being denied rights about which they didn't previously need to worry. Nothing sparkled about the way Judy noticed predators would rush through the streets, avoiding potential confrontation.
Nothing.