Authors notes.

Strangely, it seems like my shorter chapters are the ones that get the most comments.

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Dasmudpie: I have a plan to go more into the history of the 'hairless apes' if I do the Savage/Skye prequel quartet which I've semi-planned in my head. As Rich and/or Byron said that 'birds and lizards and such' live off in other places, I wanted to include them all in. Primarily for the pun potential.

Seriously, throwing away all the potential bird puns I can make is a crime against comedy.

Regardless, early humans nearly did go extinct due to the lake toba eruption. It makes sense that, in a world with so much more competition (specifically intelligent competition) we wouldn't make it. And us being in this world and going extinct is just as likely as us never evolving at all.

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Foxlover: I like giving cameos here and there of the ZTOP crew. Honey and Clawhauser get most of the love, so I thought I'd add in everyone favorite concentrated entity of teeth based facial removal.

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Arcana: It's my way of distancing myself with that Fic, yes.

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Midnight Max: Actually, it was a self depreciating rip at my pretty rubbish first fic.

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Melior: Yeh, I missed doing that. But I did distract him with a stuffed toy, say 'playtime's over', and smash him over the head with the peace lily.

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In other news, I've started writing my next Fic. I've decided to go with the evacuation AU, and I may be sending a PM over to Arcana later this month.

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Edit: Forgot to mention, I'm over 200 reviews. Celebrate good times come on!

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Chapter 37:

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August, 2013.

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Summer had come again, and with it the food of the season. The whole idea of seasonal food was a strange concept to me back when I was young, back in Zootopia. But out here, after over twenty years of living off the produce we grew ourselves, it was second nature. While back in the city they bent nature to their will, with the huge climate controls and access to food from across the whole world, here we settled down into the flow of nature, ebbing and flowing with the tides of the years.

I couldn't help but think how fast time had been flowing, despite how slow life often felt out here.

It seemed like only yesterday that I was cradling three tiny Kits in my arms, but eleven years had passed since then.

Some things, though, never changed. Moving up into one of the canteens that faced the town hall, the same one I'd been visiting most mornings since before they were even born, I strolled up to the front and placed down my order slip, already licking my lips as a platter of breakfast fruits and steaming pies and pastries were brought out.

Here, even breakfast changed with the seasons, something that I'd have found crazy back when I was a little Kit back in Zootopia, always eating my favourite cereal day in day out.

Every autumn, with fresh vegetables and harvested wheat, some mammals would devour through hardy porridge's or some kind of spicy vegetable stew. I meanwhile would chomp through honey on toast, honey and oat flapjacks, syrupy pancakes or paprika spiced potatoes hash's.

Come winter, when the air was cold and snow billowed around, we'd switch to a diet more fitting for the towns fully carnivorous residents. Bug sausage, crispy bits of scorpion skin and offal pudding. Alongside these were more omnivorous delicacies such as garlic fried mushrooms, fried bread stuffed with melted cheese, more of the same old potato hash's and, on the precious occasions they were in stock, fried eggs.

Or scrambled eggs…

Or poached eggs…

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I felt my mouth salivating at the thought of one of those delicacies….

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But I could only shake my head, knowing that we were cruelly out of them.

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Spring was a different affair altogether, with both bugs and fresh food running low. It was then that we'd turn to our good friend the sea. Smoked fish was a favourite, with smoked salmon, kippers, herring and many others, along with fresh roe and maybe even the odd pot of mollycoddle stew. I'd always end up with double helpings of that stuff when it came on, and I'd always silently thank the gods for making my little Skye such a fussy eater afterwards.

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But summer was always my favourite. It was here that the fruit bushes and trees were in full bloom, and everyone wanted some of the action. Taking the breakfast platter, or rather brunch platter given that it was close to eleven, I placed down my payment for tomorrow's food before I turned and took it out, my mouth already moist from the sight and smells in front of me. There was a large pot of fresh summer berries: strawberries, blackberries, raspberries, loganberries, cranberries and of course a double helping of delicious blueberries; alongside a nice pot of thick dipping cream. Then there were other fruits like apples, pears, cherries and even the odd kiwi, all picked less than a day ago. Alongside all these were pastries, from apple turnovers to a sweet blueberry pie.

Spending my time gawking at the food, my stomach growing in anticipation, I hardly noticed as I passed through the thin alley that lead past my parents' store and to my own home in the back garden.

"Got the food Dad?" I heard Cass call out, and I looked up to see her hanging upside down from a shabby climbing frame built onto the side of the log cabin. Her tongue was already out, and drooped down past her muzzle and eyes, dripping saliva as it moved up and down with each of her hungry pants.

"I'll give you one guess," I called back, as I turned to the door and walked in. My ears pricked as I heard the thud of her dropping down, onto her head most likely, before she raced in after me. Right behind her was Skye, walking in at a much more restrained pace and with her head still half buried in a book she'd borrowed from the town library a few days ago. Unlike Cass, who wore nothing more than a short crop top and some tiny jean-shorts, Skye had a flowing indigo dress while her tail and head fur was done up in light blue ribbons, with a large pink bow on her right ear. She'd even been begging to get her ears pierced, though I'd said repeatedly that she had to wait for her next birthday to do so.

"About time, Slicky boy!" came a cry from above me and, as I placed the food down onto our table, I glanced up to see Hess looking down at me, a flash of irritation on her muzzle.

A flash that was quickly matched by my own.

"Firstly Hess," I scolded, "you were still asleep when I left our basket. You even begged me to stay in for ten more minutes!"

"Can you prove that?" she snarked back, before sticking her tongue out at me.

"Secondly…" I began, before pausing. "Screw it, it's not worth the effort."

Hess just smiled and shook her head, before standing up and making her way down the stairs and to the table. My two little Vixen's meanwhile set about getting out the plates and cutlery. Cass getting her own, and Skye handling all the rest. I paused for a bit, looking and sniffing around, before calling for the final member of my little skulk.

"Oscar! Breakfast!"

There was a short pause as nothing happened, before I called out his name again. "Oscar!"

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I glanced to the side and spotted Hester shrug as she sat down, before she immediately grabbed a cherry in her paw, threw it up into the air and failed spectacularly to catch it in her mouth, the fruit instead hitting her right between her eyes. Seeing that she was occupied, I walked off, snickering as I went. As my foot planted itself on the first step of the stairs, my ears twitched and I suddenly felt the whack of a far more on target cherry impacting me on my cheek. I paused, glancing over to see Hester trying to look as innocent as possible and my two daughters giggling, before I picked up the fruit, threw it into my mouth and carried on.

"Oscar, breakfast!" I called again, taking the opportunity to lean over the landing railings on spit the cherry pip down below. Smiling as I heard a surprised 'Yip' from the breakfast table, I paused at the door to my son's room and rapped it with my claws. "Come on son!"

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"Uuuugggghhhh….."

There was the soft sound of shuffling sheets and then pawsteps, before the door unlocked and my Son came out. I'd seen some pictures of my dear Pap's when he was Oscars age and the resemblance was uncanny, to the point where you might think they were identical twins. He was a bit short, which over-exaggerated his thick build, and his fur was all a darker shade of red, almost maroon. His face was where the biggest resemblance lay with a shorter, thicker muzzle with little to no upturn and deep amber eyes, though given how heavy lidded his eyelids were they were hard to spot.

"Morning sunshine, I thought you woke up earlier?"

"I did," he muttered after a brief paused, before his face winced up and he let out a great yawn.

"Looks like you had a major lie in."

There was a brief pause as he thought of what to say, before speaking. "I had a sleep relapse dad," he said as he slowly walked down the balcony towards the stairs, his tail dragging limply along the floor as he went. A small spike of curiosity flowing through me, I turned the other way and peeked into his room. Unlike all the other walls in the house, the ones in his bedroom were covered in sheets of paper, with hundreds of scribbly drawings on them. While there were a few pictures of our town, or out of proportion (but steadily improving) portraits of family and friends, many of the sketches showed giant buildings and huge numbers of different mammals. I recognised a few famous buildings from Zootopia, and thought I could spot what looked like his own climate wall on one end. To the left of it many of the buildings were snowy, while to the right the yellows and oranges of sand and sandstone took over.

"Dad, breakfast!"

Hearing Cass call up, in the exact same tone I'd used earlier for Oscar, I chose to ask him about his sketches another time. I leant back out, closed the door and made my way down to the breakfast table, ducking a fast approaching cherry pip as I went.

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"So, Skye. Are you going to try a Kiwi?" I asked, holding one of the fruits in my paw as I spoke. While the other members of my family readily ate up the food with little to no manners, the silver vixen gently put her knife and fork down, looked at the fruit in disgust and shook her side from side to side. "And why not?" I asked.

"It's green," she said back, with complete sincerity and not a hint of the expected disgust.

"What's wrong with something that's green?"

"It's wrong!" she said out loud, "no good food is ever green. The only creatures that eat green food are prey ones, and we're not nasty Prey, are we?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Oscar. "What's wrong with Prey mammals?"

Sky returned to Oscar and scowled. "They're all mean and horrible. It says so in my book!"

"Well, how do you know your dumb princess picture book is right?!"

In an instant, Oscar backed off as he saw Skye bare her teeth. Everyone backed off when we saw her growl, the sound sounding incredibly strange coming out of her mouth, none of us remembering the last time she'd ever done so. She quickly cut it off, and silence filled the air.

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"…Sorry Sis," Oscar finally muttered, as time seemed to restart again. Skye immediately leant forward to carefully lift up a slice of blueberry pie, gently picking it up as Cass suddenly burst into a fit of laughter. As Oscar meekly turned back to his own food and Hester pinched the Kiwi that started the whole growling affair for herself, curiosity got the better of me and I spoke up.

"What is your book about, Skye?"

My favourite Silver Fox was silent for a few seconds, as she chewed and swallowed the slice of pie that was in her mouth, before she replied. "It's about princess Marina Anthonyil, the last crown princess of Katavulpia."

"Still dumb!" Cass said, her tongue quickly sticking out as she tried to get a rise out of Skye, but only getting a venomous glare for her effort.

"Not really," Hester began, "I used to love that book when I was young too. In fact, I think that might be my very copy, which I donated to the library."

"That explains the picture of a Fox with hearts around him in the back then."

Whatever Hester wanted to say in response was lost as I coughed several times in shock at the revelation, which was only worsened as Skye pulled out her book, opened it to the incriminating page and pushed it over, revealing the eponymous drawing for me to see. I wasted no time in standing up, walking over to a desk and retrieving a pen, and scribbling out the drawing, erasing it from history. My ears felt surprisingly warm, and were ringing with everyone's laughter. My damage control complete, I walked back to the table and pushed the book back across it to Skye's waiting arms, before taking the rest of the blueberry pie, grabbing a huge chunk, and stuffing my mouth with it.

Meanwhile Hester, finally composing herself despite this being something she should have been equally embarrassed by, turned back to Skye to continue their conversation. "So, I'm guessing that as you've seen the back, you've already read it all?"

"Sort of."

"What do you mean, sort of?"

"I uh, I've seen all the pictures before, but never really read anything beyond the captions until now. This is my first proper read-through, or at least the first I think I'll be able to finish. I tried before, but got stuck."

"How do you get stuck on a stupid princess book?" Cass said, giggling as she did so. I half expected Skye to get up and thwack her with something, but instead she grabbed her book, opened it up to a random page and passed it over to her.

"Read it," she ordered, and Cass dutifully replied.

"On the date of June the 15th, on the eve of King Lionheart's 60th Birthday, the aristocracy of Katavulpia were cordially invited, in the spirit of commemoration, solidarity and resilience against the three years of defensive stalemate against the newly united Prey mammal forces, for a great ball to be held the following week in the granite palace of Praztrai. Marina, who had been nursing in the coastal refugee camps …" Cass paused for a moment, her head tilting to the side, before asking her sister a question. "Why would a dumb princess be a nurse?"

"Because she's not a dumb Princess!"

"Okay… but this book is still dumb. I mean, it's like a history book."

"IT IS A HISTORY BOOK!"

"…Oh, sorry" Cass finally said, before closing it up and handing it back to a dangerously smug looking Skye, who quickly turned her sass on Oscar.

"Ozzy, in this book it talks about how Princess Marina helped nurse all the poor people that Prey mammals forced from their homes. Katavulpia was a happy Pred country that didn't want to join with the Prey mammals and put everyone in collars, so the prey mammals declared war! They tried to enter the Katavulpian valleys through the mountains, and when they were pressed back they sent all their new dreadnought battleships along the coast to stop people fishing, and to blow all the towns and cities up! Doesn't that seem all mean and horrible to you?"

Oscar just looked on with wide eyes and turned to me, gulping. "Dad, could…. Could the Prey mammals do that to us!"

"No son," I replied. "Firstly, we're doing our best to keep our little town a secret from them. Even if they do find us, we're not a big industrial country that can field an army, and it's not like they can say we're sending raiding parties over to steal Prey to eat, can they? Even then, attacking us would make them pariah's, with countries like Avaria stopping trade with them. It's a different time Son, so don't worry."

He nodded slowly, before his head shifted, tilting as some thought or other entered his head. "Did Katavulpia send out raiding parties to steal Prey?"

"No," I replied, shaking my head. "Most people, even Prey mammals, admit that it was all made up."

"And why would Avaria try to protect us now?" he asked, his voice growing more concerned. "Didn't they protect Katavulpia back in the day?"

I paused, thinking about what I knew of history, before speaking. "They were a lot weaker back then, something to do with major coal shortages, and needed trade with the mammalian states to recover after their own war with Reptilia. Even if they wanted to fight, their fleet could only really sail to the east coast, where Zootopia now is. They'd have to sail for months around the world to get to Katavulpia on the west coast, though that didn't stop many birds volunteering to fight for them."

"Like this Owl here!" Skye said, grabbing her book, flicking through to a certain page and showing Oscar one of the pictures. Curious, I stood and looked over at it, seeing the eponymous Cougar princess standing proud and smiling on a rooftop, her short and curly hair gently flowing in the wind and a well-oiled rifle strapped over her shoulder. While the city behind was broken and burnt from months of shelling, she seemed flawless even though she only wore a rolled-up shirt and tough combat trousers rather than a princess's standard attire. On one of her shoulders perched an owl in similar combat gear, though sans sleeves in order to stop interference with his wings. I couldn't help but noticed that he seemed rather gaunt, and had some noticeably bushy eyebrows as well.

"That looks like my kind of Princess!" Cass commented, though Skye ignored her and began speaking.

"The book here says that, after Katavulpian railway cannons, along with a sea otter battalion armed with limpet mines, were used to drive off the Mammalian fleet from the coast around the city of Gyarhal, she joined the forces who went into the city to liberate those who'd been trapped inside, so that she could care for them. She even fought against some of the Prey landing forces who'd tried to get into the city! It says here that, after that, she wanted to meet the Avarian spotter crews who'd told the cannons where the ships were and where they needed to fire."

"If I remember correctly, that Owl was very famous." Hester said, to which Skye nodded.

"Says here: This is the only time that Princess Marina and influential Avarian author, George Owlwell, met. He would later write of his service in the free militia in his book, 'Homage to Katavulpia'… Maybe when I finish this book I could read that one."

"Maybe," I said, shrugging. "The only Owlwell I've read is Ant Farm, which you'd probably find rather good."

"Meh," Hester added, "I was always more of an Aldous Duckley person."

With that, the conversation slowed to a halt as we carried on eating. I knew better than to continue pressuring Skye to try kiwi's and she carefully ate up the rest of her breakfast, as always acting like a desert was at stake. Cass, however, busily gobbled down her food as if she were starving, before announcing that she was going to the park to play, and reminding Skye about a sleepover that she'd planned for later than night. Skye finished off her food and, after asking to leave the table, walked out after her sister.

"Now then," I began, turning to my wife as I spoke. "With those two occupied, what are you doing Hess?" I grinned a bit as I thought up a rather good tease. "Got your own sleepover planned?"

Hester blinked a few times, obviously trying to think of a come-back, before a cunning grin grew on her muzzle and she snarked back. "Three days with the girls, starting immediately. Bye-Bye!"

With that she stood up and walked out, flicking my ear as she went and snapping my train of thought back into action. "When was this planned?"

"About ten or twenty seconds ago," she said with an innocent shrug. "Remember that pause? That was me planning it. See you later Slick!"

And with a blown kiss and flick of her tail she was gone, leaving the two men of the house alone. I paused for a bit, piquing my mouth about as I thought, before I turned to my son. "Don't worry, she won't be gone for three days."

"I know," he replied through a mouth full of strawberries. "Two days or one, what's your guess?"

"She seemed to be enjoying that teasing, so I'd guess she'd go two days to make the joke funnier."

"Great…" he huffed, before he slid himself off his chair and began walking away. Something in his voice didn't seem right, and as I watched him walk up the stairs, his tail dragging on the steps, my concern grew. "Son? Everything Okay?"

He was silent, just looking down at the floor as he climbed.

"Oscar," I said while I stood up. "Are you lonely? Maybe I could arrange something with Fenrick, so you could do something with Hassan? Or do something with Popy? Or both of your favourite Fennecs?"

"I'm fine Dad," he muttered back.

"Or you could go over to the Redtail's?" I offered. "You always like playing with Tommy, don't you?"

"Dad…"

"Or maybe we could spend some quality father and son time together? Maybe granddad or grandpa in too. Maybe both?" I grinned at the thought, pulling up my arm to raise up an excited clenched fist. "Or just all three Piberius boys, spending some time together!?"

Oscar paused, turning to face me. I couldn't help but notice how dull his usually rich amber eyes were. "It's fine Dad, Grandad's going to be teaching me stuff later anyway…"

"Oscar," I said, the worry gnawing away at me. "If you're bored or something, we could do something… Anything?"

"Dad… everything's boring…" he said, "but I'm fine." And with that he turned away and walked off into his room.

But while he said he was fine, I definitely wasn't.

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"And you see, the thing is I can tell something is wrong with him. He's tired. He's bored. And I know that that's not normally him. He's creative, heck what he's doing with Pap's next door is proof enough."

"I know dear," Mum said back, as she handed me one of the fresh cakes she'd baked earlier on in the day. We were sitting in the lounge at the back of my parent's store, sheltering from warmth of the midday sun in the cool, stone den. "Some children go through moods like this. You just have to be here for them."

"Any advice?"

"Well," Mum began, before shaking her head. "Most of the experience I've got is for poor Kits who've just been tamed, which isn't really the same, and that's about it. After living through that, you never took life for granted so didn't have any of these moods. While Lynn…"

"Yeh," I muttered back. "Let's not go there."

"Let's not," she agreed, her voice taking on a sadder tone. "Though, maybe it's not too late for me."

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"What do you mean by that?" I asked, confused before my eyes widened. I leant forward, taking some deep sniffs of her scent. "Are you…" I began to say, before trailing as I picked up nothing.

"Oh, I'm not, don't worry!" she said back, chuckling as she waved a paw. "Wrong side of fifty, even if it is just one year. But… I was thinking about these adoption things you and your friends back in Zootopia organise."

"If… If you want that I'll do it!" I replied, though Mum just rolled her eyes back.

"Still deciding. Still deciding. And even then, John needs to agree to it, though I don't think he'll have much trouble. Would you like a new Brother or Sister Nick?"

"I don't know," I said, my paws up in the air. "They'd be more like my nephew or niece, and more like cousins to the kids… But we all get on with those members of the family on Hess's side, so I see no problem."

"Good, good," she replied. "But for now, I think we should focus on your own son, Son. I've got to go and run some errands, but Ozzy's next door with John."

"What are you suggesting?" I asked, curious about her plan.

"I'm suggesting, Son, that for once you fit into one of those Fox stereotypes and do something a bit sneaky. I'll whisper all that stuff into your father's ear, and he can probe Oscar a bit. See if he'll spill stuff to his Grandad that he won't to you."

"Fair nuff'" I replied. As Mum got up, I followed her to the door and then held back as she stepped into the storefront. While I usually worked on my own stuff, as well as stuff with my Dad, it was currently occupied by just him and Oscar, the latter receiving a tailoring lesson. I heard Dad's foot-paws shuffle across the floor, and what I thought was a bit of whispering, before it was all quiet for a moment or two.

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"What was that about Grandad?" Oscar said curiously.

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"Oh, noting," my Dad replied back. "Just something about a present for your Auntie Honey's birthday."

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There was some soft mumbling, before Oscar replied. "I thought you could just say yes to investing in her newest project and that would be enough…"

"Oh, she's got a new project?" Pap's said, sounding interested. "I've been out of the loop ever since I took a break from the town hall. More trains…?"

"More trains." Oscar confirmed.

"Your father say she's crazy?"

"Yep."

"Did Honey shout at him and swat him with a newspaper?"

"No, dragged him around by the ear asking him to define 'you're crazy'."

"… Sounds about right," my Dad commented, chuckling as I tenderly massaged my right ear.

"Just a little thing? Or a really big one like the freight line to the limestone quarry?"

"Really big!" Oscar said back, my heart warming as he sounded at least a bit excited about something. "I think she wants to prove herself ever since Al retired. It isn't just a new railway, it's a whole new town she's planned out too. Calls it Altus, and says it's going to be our version of Tundra town."

"So, wait?" Pap's asked incredulously, "She wants to build our own climate systems and stuff?"

"No, she wants to build it in the mountains. Says there's a big flat meadow just below the tallest one, with a lake and cliffs she wants to build houses into."

"I think I know where your talking about, hiked up there last summer with your Dad." I remembered the trip well, and listened closely as he recollected it. "We had a snowball fight from a pile that had survived through spring. Guess if we're gonna build a tundra town, there's no better place."

"I guess…"

"And it'll actually be like a proper tundra, instead of the silly always winter in Zootopia."

There was a pause for a few seconds, before Oscar gave his mirthful reply. "Yeh…"

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"You sound very unenthused," my father observed. "You used to draw pictures of towns and trains, alongside your skyscrapers and stuff! Can't you do some of that stuff for Honey?"

"Uh…," Oscar replied, dragging out his hesitation as he tried to remember the details. "She already has designs and stuff. And a big plan for where her new line will go, what tunnels and bridges she'll need, how she'll protect the track from snowdrifts and such in winter..."

"How's that?"

"She originally wanted to put electric heaters all along it… then build it on salt blocks… But now she's putting it all in its own wooden tunnel thing."

There was a soft chuckle. "I can see why your Dad called her crazy."

"That's just idiot talk for unambitious, Gramps," Oscar parroted, taking the words right out a certain Honey Badger's mouth. "Anyway, she's even testing out a cog system she read about, so the train can go up all the real steep slopes." He paused, thinking, before carrying on in the same bored tone. "She also says that once complete we can use it to make it easier to build loads of new dams and stuff in the mountains for power, and a polar bear wants to run his own trains on the top part of the line to make a ski resort."

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"Aren't you interested in all of this?" my father asked. "I've seen your pictures, you love big things and construction. You used to love riding on the trains, and having Honey show you around her workshop?"

"It's… It's just boring now."

"What's changed?"

"Nothing, but… OW!"

I flinched back and gritted my teeth at the sudden sound of pain from my son, slowly unwinding myself as the conversation on the other side continued.

"That's what you get for talking and sewing at the same time little champ."

"Don't call me that!"

"Sorry, and despite your accident you're getting really good. You know that?"

"No… I didn't. Thanks…"

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"So," Oscar began again after a short pause, his voice sounding at least slightly curious. "I know you taught Grandma how to sew, and she and you taught my dad who taught me. Who taught you?"

"Oh, that's an old story I haven't told in a long time. You see, you know how Honey acts a bit different to everyone?"

"What, the way she's always being loud, and messing with things and overreacting?"

"Yeh," my dad replied, "like that. Well… my parents were different too. But different in another way."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, back in Zootopia everything for Foxes like us was a lot, lot harder, and they couldn't really cope with the collars and the hate. They were sad a lot of the time, and scared, and that meant they lashed out at other people. This made their collars shock them, and it only made everything worse. The only time they seemed not like that was when they got drunk or took tranquilisers, which they did to escape their pain…" I could feel his voice trail off, as pain slowly filled it. "You know," he continued, "I still wish that they hadn't taken their lives. That I could have brought them over here with us…"

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"And, the tailoring?"

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"Oh, right," he said, snapping back into action. "Well, anyway, everything in my house was really dirty and tatty. And you could spot that my clothes were messier than everyone else's. It wasn't just there, it was on TV and such. All these happy, successful people with good clothes. And being a little Kit, I thought that if I wore good clothes it would stop people being mean to me and make me happier. Maybe even give me new friends. So, as some teachers taught us basic sewing in school, I asked them to help me get better at it. They taught me a few things that I knew, and then told me to just practice. And that's what I did. I sewed up bits of fabric together, then made clothing for stuffed toys."

"Did you get any new friends?"

"Oh, not from that no," my father replied. "During one of my parent's better years, they got together with some other Foxes, so us Kits could play together. I made a few friends there instead."

"What next?"

"Well, after leaving high school, I worked a basic job and put myself through night school to learn how to properly make clothes, then I started making some mail order clothes, then rather than buying a house I bought our old store in Happytown on the cheap and opened up shop."

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"Back in Zootopia, were there many more of these courses?" Oscar asked.

"Oh yes. Hundreds," my father answered. "Thousands even. And then there was college, and university, and all sorts of big things to learn."

"And loads of different mammals?"

"Yes, lots of Preds. Many that we don't have here. And of course, millions of Prey mammals. From tiny mice and rodents, to giant elephants and tall giraffes. There were bats, who are mammals that can fly, and sloths who are crazy slow… Why do you ask?"

"I went to Zootopia when I was a baby, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did. You had a problem with your eye, and we wanted to send you to proper doctors."

"… Could I go back?"

"Oscar," my Dad said with a deep pause. "Why on earth would you want to go back there?"

"Why wouldn't you?" he replied, and I couldn't help but notice his voice rising with excitement. "It's a city with every type of mammal in it! And it has towers that reach up to the sky, and deserts and snow and giant caves and rainforests all next to each other! And there's all sorts of new music coming out every day that I've never heard before, and new people to meet and friends to make! And… and here, it… it's just got boring. I want to go places and explore! And all we have here are forests and mountains and stuff that all look the same."

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"Oscar, do you know why we came here?" my Dad said after a pause.

"Yeh… The collars and stuff, but it really can't…"

"Trust me, it is!" he interrupted, and I flinched back as I heard a rarely used tone of anger in his voice. "When your father went with you back to Zootopia, he was there for less than one day before an angry Prey mammal decided to try and assault him. He begged for help but no-one helped him."

"So? People are jerks here too."

"Remember what I said about my parents? How I thought making them nice clean clothes could make them better. Heal them…"

"Yeh…"

"The only thing that could have healed them was coming out here!" my father urged, the pain in his voice evident "Don't you understand that Oscar? The collars, and all that abuse, killed them! And you've lived your entire life here and haven't suffered any of that, trust me I never want you too, but you have no idea what you've been spared from."

"But can't things have gotten better?"

.

"Let me show you something."

The conversation in the other room stopped and I heard the shuffling of feet coming towards the door. Immediately, I backed off and sat down in a chair, tilting my muzzle up and letting my tongue roll out as I pretended to be in a fake slumber.

"…That's Dad sleeping, Granddad," I heard Oscar say, forcing me to disguise a sudden guffaw as a cough.

"Not what I wanted to show you. Come on upstairs, you need to see this."

As I heard the creaking of the stairs as the two walked up I carefully opened my eyes. Finding the coast was clear, I carefully stood up and sneaked on after them. As I skulked up the stairs on all fours I heard the door to Dads bedroom open, before there was the shuffling of boxes and then the sound of a padlock being opened.

"Grandad… Is… is that?"

"Not mine. It's your mothers…"

I peeked around the corner, and I felt my heart falter with dread as I saw a shock collar in my Dad's paws.

"Can I… touch it?"

"Sure."

I watched as Oscar curiously took the item in his paws, before he began running his pads over it. Feeling the tough plastic strap. Feeling around the shock unit, and running his claw around the edge of the mood light.

"What are these two little bumps on the inside."

"They're made of metal, aren't they?

"Yes… Is this where the shock comes from? I mean, they're attached to the shock unit."

"Yes," my father replied sullenly. "I still remember how, if it was a hot summer and you'd been shedding a lot, those cold things would touch down to your skin. Always sent a chill down your spine, knowing that the shock would be three times as worse or so."

"Did they ever run out?"

"They kept themselves charged up by generating electricity from your body heat and movement," my father replied with a shrug. "Though I still remember my parents and I getting these new versions to replace the huge old ones that needed charging up every month or so at a 'Pred Check'."

"What did getting shocked feel like?"

"Remember when that hornet stung you on the nose last spring?"

"Not really…"

"Well, imagine it," my father ordered. "Then make every part of your body ache and jitter for five minutes or so after."

"…But they only shock you if you were angry, or…"

"NO!" my Dad almost shouted, making me flinch back behind the cover of the wall. "They would shock you whenever you got too emotional! You talked about all this new music in Zootopia, well guess what! You can't really enjoy it or rock out to it, because your collar will shock you! And you want to explore and visit all these places in Zootopia? It'll shock you for your excitement! And your wonder! And if you fall in love, like your Grandma and I or your father and mother, well it'll shock you for your passion too!"

"And you're a kid, Oscar," I said, finally unable to hold back. I stepped into the room and looked at my father and my son, and the vile shock collar they held between them. "And wearing one of those things, you won't be able to even play like a child has a right to. Do you know why I go back to Zootopia?"

"To bring back more Preds," Oscar said back.

"Yes. Preds who want to leave that place. Leaving their entire lives behind because they can't stand them anymore."

"But you have a broken collar, don't you?"

"Yes," I said, nodding as I did so. "You don't have a collar, thank god, and while mine is fixed I know that I have to be careful. I never go too far away from my friends and allies in the city and never do any of those things you want to do. I know that I have to behave while in a fixed collar, and I have to be very careful whenever I'm out in the public."

He opened his mouth to speak, but I just talked over him.

He needed to hear all of this.

"You're a child, and you might act out by accident and draw attention to yourself, which means you'll be taken away and given a real collar at the very least. At the very worst, they could check mine too, collar us again and throw us both into jail! That means I'd be locked in a cell, unable to see anyone and slowly going mad for the rest of my life while you'd spend years in a juvie that would chew you up and fry you to ashes before breakfast! You've got to realise, I can't let that happen to you!"

Oscar stood back, silent as he blinked with thought. I noticed he still held the collar in his paws, curiously fiddling with it in his pads. "What if I don't have a fixed collar on. What if…"

"NO!" I shouted out, in unison with my father. I turned to Oscar, pulled the collar from his paws and stuffed it back in its box, before dragging him out.

"Listen," I said. "I know you're bored with this town. And Zootopia sounds like this crazy, awesome city where Pred and Prey get on in harmony and sit around a campfire singing kumbaya! BUT IT'S NOT! Your Granddad risked almost everything bar his very life, though that's debatable, to make this town possible! Maybe I should find someone off a fresh boat to tell you how dreadful it really is!"

Oscar just looked away and huffed, before loosening his paws from mine and stropping off back to our house, leaving me to look back at my own Dad.

"Trust me," he said. "Back when you were young, before the bank incident, I hoped that I could help make Zootopia work, for us, too. It took that last hammer blow to make me realise that it isn't worth saving. Even if the dream behind it really was pure, it's just not worth it."

"Yeah," I replied. "But how do I make Oscar realise that without hurting him?"

"He'll grow out of it," Dad replied. "He'll grow out of it…"

.

.

.

.

"Dad…"

"Hey Oscar," I said, not looking up from the needlework I was doing. It had been a few hours since Oscar had been shown his Grandma's collar, and after lunch I'd settled down to do some work.

"You know you won't let me back to Zootopia."

"Yes…." I sighed, annoyed that we'd be going through all this again. "Not until you're at least eighteen, and can be trusted. That's the way it's going to be, because I love you too much to let you wear a shock collar…"

"Really?" he asked. "They're not that bad."

I scowled, putting down the clothes I was mending. "You do realise how offensive that is to those of us who had to wear those things?"

"It's really not that bad," he said again, and I felt my teeth grind against each other in annoyance.

"Really?" I asked, turning around to face him. "How on earth do….."

.

I couldn't finish the sentence.

.

The words just froze inside of me, as my pulse stopped and my blood ran icy cold.

.

Oscar just stood there, shrugging, with the ghastly green glow of a working collar strapped around his neck.

.

"It's really not that bad," he said again. "No different to a watch really."

.

"Oscar…" I said, my voice struggling to be anything more than a whisper. I was too struck with terror, and too scared to do anything that might hurt him, to do anything else. "You… You…"

"I thought it couldn't be that bad, so I tried it on," he replied back, smiling as he did so.

"You STUPID BOY!" I hissed, waving at him with my paws as I spoke. "You stupid, stupid boy! Stay right there, DO NOT MOVE, while I'll go, grab a key and then take that thing off of you. You hear me…?"

.

Oscar just blinked a few times, confused.

.

"YOU HEAR ME!?"

.

….beep….

.

The quiet sound of the collar warming up to orange was like an old nightmare returning. It echoed around the room, and I couldn't help but notice how my whole body was trembling.

.

"Cool," he observed, though there as a hint of nervousness in his voice. "So, it's orange now, and if I get too crazy it goes red. Doesn't it?"

.

"Oscar… Stay still," I carefully ordered as I began making my way to the door.

.

"How much do you have to do to get zapped anyway?" he asked.

.

I ignored him. Already I was at the door, almost tearing it off its hinges as I opened it to step out, only to hear the beating of pads on the floor. I turned, my mouth trembling half open, as I saw Oscar doing some start jumps.

"ONE, TWO, THREE!" he shouted, sounding terrifyingly excited. "ONE, TWO…"

.

I opened my mouth to scream at him to stop…

.

But hearing the soft Beep silenced me.

.

ZIP…

"YIP!" Oscar yelped, as his jumping stopped and his paw shot up to massage the area the collar had struck at. My previous anger vanished as I surged forward and took him up in my arms, holding him tight. Not wanting to let go.

.

"…. That…. That hurt…" he said slowly.

"Yes," I said back. "And that's why I didn't want you to touch that thing! You understand now?"

"Yeh… it… it…. I wasn't even doing anything bad," he observed. "Just doing a little exercise…"

"I know," I replied softly nuzzling my cheek into his.

"What… What if there were bullies after you… or…"

"You had to learn to not be scared, however cruel they were, and to keep calm. Even when your body was urging you to do otherwise," I said from almost forgotten experience. "Either that, or the bullies had a new best friend…"

"I… I…" he stuttered, before gulping. "I don't want to go to Zootopia anymore."

"Okay, son," I replied, as I pulled back to look at him, spotting his big amber eyes misting over with tears. "Stay here, and I'll get a key from the town hall and get that thing off you."

"Right…" he said. "But can you please hurry. It… I really don't want it on anymore…! I really want it off now!"

"Just hang on in there" I said, already not liking how scared he was beginning to sound. "Stay calm, and…"

.

…Beep…

.

"DADDY!"

.

…ZIP…

.

"OSCAR!" I turned back to see his paws on his collar, desperately trying to tug and tear it off, but only irritating the anti-tamper device inside even more.

.

…ZAP!

.

I felt my heart break as the full-blown shock tore through his body, his limbs buckling before they collapsed. I rushed forward to cradle him in my arms, holding him tight as if it could somehow save him…

.

ZAP!

.

Another shock tore through him, and I felt a soft but harsh surge of electricity filter through me too. He screamed, a loud blood curdling one rather than his previous 'yips' and yelps', before descending into heart wrenching sobs from the pain.

"NICK!"

I hardly noticed the call of my own dad, too focussed on Oscar, his tears flowing down his muzzle and onto my shoulder, where they met my own.

"NICK! I THINK OSCAR…" he yelled, as he raced into the house and set his eyes on us. "OH GOD!"

"GET THE KEY!" I yelled back, not even opening my eyes, yet alone turning to face him. Later on, I'd be thankful that he'd come at that time, able to retrieve the key given that I was unable to leave Oscar alone. But in the present, all I could focus on was trying to stop the torture my son was being subjected to, my failure to do so piercing my heart like an icicle.

"Dad… Daddy… I… I…" …ZAP!... "AAAAAAHHHHHH!"

His scream just made me hold him in tighter.

Closer…

Safer…

"You've got to stop messing with it!" I said, but Oscar was too struck with fear to notice. One of his paws was at his collar, fixed around it as it clawed and tugged at it, trying to tear it off.

.

…BEEP…

.

ZAAAPPPP!

.

I gritted my teeth and rode through the two second shock, even as Oscar's desperately kicking legs tore into my shirt and clawed at my chest. I ignored the cold stab of the cuts, my blood flowing out, instead hurt by how much pain Oscar was in. His hot tears poured down me. His screams tore through the room.

.

…Beep…

.

My eyes opened, and I pushed my paw up beneath his collar, right below the shocking unit.

.

ZAP!

.

"AAAAARGHHHH! SHIT!" I screamed, feeling the white-hot current burning through my hand. My eyes closed, I panted as I noticed the cold pricks of metal touching the skin on the top of my paw, the fur far too thin to properly insulate against the collars wrath.

.

ZAP!

.

There was a second shock, and I felt my body jolt as another nail of pain was hammered through my palm. The whole paw twitched and ached, but it wasn't going anywhere. Not until the collar was off my son.

.

ZIP!

.

I only winced at the light shock, and sighed in relief as the light finally went back down to orange. Oscar's face was still up against my chest, my shirt moist with his tears. His whole body heaved with sobs and cries, and he made a few sounds as if he was trying to speak, only for it to descend into a weak mumbling.

"It's okay." I said, moving my other paw up to gently stroke his head. "It's Okay…"

.

"Daddy…"

"Yes Son…"

"I… I… I'm sorry… I'm…"

"Don't worry. I forgive you. You did something stupid, but it's okay… It's Okay…"

.

.

"Daddy…. I… I don't want to go to Zootopia ever…."

"That's fine by me…"

.

"Why… why did the Prey do this to us…?"

.

"They… They're scared of us… And scared mammals can do terrible things… You know how I put my paw under the collar to protect you, even though it hurt me far more than you…"

"Yes. I-I'm sorry. You didn't need to do that, Dad…"

"I did," I said back, before I pulled my head back to look at him. He looked up with me, with red bloodshot eyes, and I leant in to kiss him. "Because I love you, and I want to protect you. Even if it hurts me more than you. And these Prey, they think we're dangerous, so they put us in the collars, which doesn't hurt them at all, to protect those they love."

.

"But… But, why are they scared of us…?"

.

"Because thousands of-"

.

"I Know we used to eat them!" Oscar said, forcing it through his sobs. There was a harsh Beep of his collar, but looking over I sighed with relief when I saw it had only gone up to orange. "But I'd never eat someone!"

"I know…"

"But… Why don't the prey just listen to us?" he asked. "We don't want to eat or hurt them. We… We don't need to be zapped…. Why don't they listen to us…?"

.

.

"I don't know son," I said, as I hugged him in tight and began crying all over again. "I don't know, I've never know…."

.

.

AN: Doubleplusgood birdlaugh, yes?