Dry leaves and sticks crackled under Judy's paws like muffled firecrackers, each unsteady step through the autumn-tinted forest accompanied by weary panting. The rabbit didn't know how long she'd been running. A half-hour, maybe? Probably more, if the sheer exhaustion she felt was anything to go by. A black plastic case and ragged blue backpack jumped up and down under her arm and back with every footfall, their contents just barely protected.
Letting out a shaky swear under her breath, Judy narrowly avoided tripping over some of the harsher roots splayed across the forest floor. The combination of the dense trees as well as dead leaves littering the ground made stealth or hiding difficult due to the resulting noise, but on the other paw Judy wasn't sure she could run for much longer.
An angry, almost manic voice called out from behind her; Judy couldn't tell from how far away.
"C'mon, prey! Come out, already! What else do you have to lose?!"
Judy let out another hushed swear, refusing to even acknowledge the vitriol-laden taunt. If nothing else, her pursuers were persistent. Looking back revealed that the two wolves had lost her amongst the russet-colored leaves and pale bark, which meant she had finally gained a lead. She darted behind a tree into a small clearing, careful to avoid the traitorous leaves, and took several silent gulps of air.
A few beats of respite passed as Judy regained her breath, the pair of wolves behind her shouting out more brazen taunts and obscenities; neither mammal struck her as very clever. Still, Judy needed a distraction, and she needed it now. Paws shaking, her gaze shifted to the backpack. Searching it revealed some of its contents - a set of matches, makeshift knife, dusty water bottles and a small container of gasoline. Judy sighed quietly, taking out the bottled water and drinking it down greedily, before taking a long, hard look at the gasoline. It would be amoral, dangerous, risky, and several other perfectly good objections, but-
crack crack came the sound of gunfire through a nearby tree. Real guns, not the type stored in the black case under her arm.
Clearly, she didn't have much time. Slipping the knife into her pocket, Judy pulled out the gasoline and spread it amongst the base of the cluster of trees she hid behind, before glancing up at the dense foliage overhead. Despite everything, she smiled a little. It was practically one tree; the overhanging foliage interlocked in a way that practically begged to be destroyed by unfortunately necessary arson. Obviously. From the perspective of a wholly exhausted bunny, there wasn't really any other interpretation.
More gunfire ripped through nearby trees, making Judy fumble and drop the can. She looked at it despairingly as the flammable liquid trickled across the ground. A full-fledged forest fire came to mind, but before Judy could guiltily dwell on the thought her paws had already lit a match. It went out almost immediately.
"No, no, no… Come on!" she whisper-shouted, growing increasingly desperate.
An idea struck her with startling clarity. Rummaging around in her pockets revealed the knife she'd pocketed just a moment ago, as well as a faded red and black kerchief. Judy gave it a dark look, and after a moment's hesitation used the matches to create a more substantial flame by setting fire to the memento.
With increasing clarity, she could still hear her pursuers argue and shout as they slowly approached her direction. The heat started to seep into her right paw, and so Judy began to mouth a strangled countdown.
3.
Her other paw made its way up her body, checking for injuries. She found several scratches, none of which surprised her.
2.
The paw shifted to her neck, latching onto the black thing cruelly ringing it.
1.
A broken shock collar.
Judy burst into a run, throwing the burning cloth directly behind her into the gasoline, and the effect was practically instant: a rush of heat blasted her back, accompanied by a satisfying kaboom. A distinctly wolf-esque (wolfish?) shout was quickly drowned out by roaring flames. The rabbit hoped that they were too far from the blaze to be seriously hurt.
Using the sound of fire and the resulting heat as a distraction, Judy poured on speed in the direction least crowded by trees. Sheer, mortal panic overtook her senses, and as if to parallel the blaze behind her, the breath circling her lungs turned fiery and roiling. Looking back displayed just about exactly what she'd been expecting: what could've passed as a thirty-mammal bonfire centered in a clump of trees, each tendril of flame licking up the trunks like otherworldly snakes. The overhanging foliage had just caught as well, and Judy did not doubt if she'd been standing under it she'd look up to see a sky of fire.
The rabbit turned back to her path and ran, completely ignoring the noise she was so clearly making. Fortunately, she hadn't dropped the backpack nor the black case during her sudden bout of pyromania. She wasn't sure what she would have done if she'd lost the case. Behind her, russet trees splintered and burned against the setting sun.
After another few minutes of panicked running and remorseful thoughts, Judy reached a wide field of what she assumed to be crops - despite being a rabbit, she didn't really have a reference point for agriculture of any kind. A lone hill with a single pale tree stood nearby, and with the last of her energy Judy plodded over to the base. Entirely drained, she rested her back on the dead bark and closed her eyes. A long and slightly hysterical sigh escaped her, but fortunately she could no longer hear the burning trees. Plenty of smoke in the distance, though. Another sigh - significantly more hysterical than the last - escaped her.
Everything had gone so fucking wrong. It didn't take an expert to realize that, but something about being forced into committing arson was the cherry on top of the cock-up cake.
Today was supposed to be the checkmate for prey - the historical "it's called a hustle, sweetheart" of Zootopia, where all of Mayor Lionheart's manipulation and lies were exposed to the prey-subjugating public. Today was supposed to be the day where collars could be abolished permanently, the day on which the names "Dawn Bellwether," "Doug Ramses," "Clawhauser," "Judy Hopps," and hundreds of others would be forever marked in the history books for mammals 200 years down the line to memorize and forget. All of it had failed. Practically every step, if Judy was being honest.
Before she could dwell any further on the effervescent fountain of failure that followed her like she'd rolled in liquefied skunk, her mind went back to the knife in her pocket. A surge of complete and total fury rode through her body, and before she could control himself the collar on her neck was cut angrily in two.
Originally, Judy planned to keep the broken collar as a memento for their success - a sort of "see how far we've come" taken physical form. That plan was swiftly abandoned in the face of her anger, and instead she settled on chucking the infernal device as far as her arms could throw it. It dropped in the middle of the field with deeply unsatisfying silence.
Judy sat back down and rested her head against the dead bark of the tree, defeated. For the first time since she was nine, Judy Hopps began to cry. To be fair, it seemed like an appropriate occasion to cry, and so she let the tears fall. They weren't the cold, body-wracking sobs one would expect from a mammal in her position, though; they were hot and angry. Angry at a world that refused to change. The field fell almost silent, but Judy's torn clothes rustled a little bit as she curled into herself.
The rabbit was so engrossed in her own mourning that she didn't notice a nearby intruder - an emerald-eyed fox with a rusting rifle over his shoulder, slowly creeping up the hill. She didn't notice when his ears fell and concern filled his face at the sound of almost-quiet crying, a sound he knew all too well. She certainly didn't notice when he walked around to the front of the tree, only a few feet in front of her.
She did notice when he took out the rifle and aimed it directly between her eyes. Almost immediately, the crying stopped. She looked up at him with total and complete hopelessness, but the part of her mind dedicated to making a good first impression was thankfully still intact.
"Hi," she said timidly, in a voice cracked by deep fatigue.