"Who are you and why are you here?" the fox said, keeping the rifle aimed steadily between her eyes. One finger twitched uncertainly at the trigger, but whether it was out of fear or excitement Judy couldn't tell.
As non-threateningly as she could, Judy slowly shifted into a sitting position, ensuring that all of her limbs were in full view of the fox. Despite the monumental level of failure that she'd already had to weather today, dying was not something she was ready for.
After finally clearing her desert-dry throat and pounding the front of her chest once, she began to speak. "My name is Judy," she started, silently weighing her options. Her legs were too cramped to make a break for it, and besides that the fox's stance clearly communicated that he knew how to use the rifle. Negotiation was her safest option.
Confusion blossomed on his face, but he kept the gun firmly planted at her head. "They give you names, now? What happened to tags?"
Judy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Giving him the best 'innocent bunny' face she could muster, she shifted one paw behind her back to feel for the knife in her pocket. "I'm sorry, sir, but I don't remember it."
There. She could feel the outline of the blade in her back poc-
"If you go for the knife, I promise you I will shoot," he threatened. "You're going to tell me your identification tag. Now."
She quickly raised her paws back to her head, barely restraining a scowl. Had he really managed to see her cut the collar off?
"JH614030," she said tiredly, "And I'm here because I escaped, okay? I did the impossible. I escaped Zootopia."
He flinched, but the barrel of the rifle stayed where it was. A smile ghosted across his muzzle. "No jokes, please. I promise I don't want to hurt you, but you need to tell me why and how you're really here."
"I'm serious," she said, gesturing to the gun. "and trust me, I am really not in the mood to be screwing with you."
"JH6... to hell with it, actually - Judy," he began, watching as her ears perked at the use of her name, "you're telling me that you escaped the most heavily-guarded city in the world with only a few scratches?
Judy shrugged, noting how some of the tension began to drain out of his shoulders. Maybe it would be best to play dumb about the whole 'accidental forest fire' mishap. "It's a long story."
To her complete and utter surprise, the fox chuckled. "I bet. If you're telling the truth - and let me tell you, that's one helluva truth - then I think a few of my friends and I wanna hear it. So let me ask you a question, alright?"
Something different had inflected his voice; something softer, more sympathetic. She nodded.
"If I drop the rifle, are you going to kill me?"
Stunned - and more than a little confused - by his directness, Judy felt her mouth drop open. A few more moments of silence passed before she was able to cobble together a semi-coherent response.
"I- what?" she sputtered.
"I'm serious. If you - as a prey mammal - really do know how to escape Zootopia, then I have some friends who need to know how."
"So you can report it and make sure it never happens again?" she spat venomously. "Why would I ever tell a pred with a gun to my head the only way a prey mammal can escape that hellhole!?"
Nodding, the fox let out a long, shaky sigh, before taking two steps back. Slowly, and with as much clarity as he could, he stowed the rifle behind his back, extending a paw. A doomed smile graced his muzzle.
"How about a pred without a gun to your head?"
Just as Judy managed to recollect her thoughts, the fox had thrown another curveball; her brain flatly refused to process the scene in front of her. Both of them knew she could go for the knife, and he wouldn't be able to reach the gun in time. This fox, whose name she didn't even have a guess at, was willing to bet his life on the word of a filthy rabbit he found in the middle of nowhere. This had to be a trap, right?
She eyed his outstretched paw with suspicion. Then again, how many options did she really have? If Judy refused to join him, she didn't have anywhere else to go; up until this point her only focus was escaping those wolves. Although following the fox wasn't exactly smart, neither was wandering the fields of crops. At least with the former there was the chance that things might go well - she could contact Clawhauser, perhaps, and he could provide a temporary safe haven.
Sighing, Judy put a paw to her head. Fuck it.
"Okay," she finally hissed, "this is the dumbest thing I've ever done, and that is really saying something, but okay. You'd better be telling the truth." With eyes narrowed, she dexterously slipped the knife out of her back pocket and pointed it at his eyes, ignoring the handshake. "But before we do anything else, you're going to answer a few questions for me."
Nervously, the fox nodded. He raised both paws in a gesture of surrender, his eyes trained on the dark sheen of the dagger.
Feeling some of the tension in her stomach settle, Judy took a deep breath. She knew how predators intimidated their victims - the forward stance, perked ears and occasional flash of teeth - and so she molded her expression into a thin veneer of fury. Judging by the growing fear in the fox's eyes, it was working.
"Who are you?" she began, inching the blade closer to his face.
"Nick Wilde," he said quickly, taking a tiny step back. "Of the Grey-Wilde biwarren, age 24."
That was her age. She'd laugh if the situation wasn't so tense. "Where am I?" she snapped.
"Just on the edge of Badgerburrow's agricultural half."
Judy didn't recognize the name, but that wasn't surprising. Most prey (and a few of the lesser predators) in Zootopia weren't even aware there were towns outside the city.
"Why do you trust me?" she growled, hiding her genuine curiosity behind more outward anger; most predators would've eaten her or worse by this point, much less try to talk.
"That's… a long story that would be much easier to tell if you came with me."
A non-answer. Typical. She had expected to hit a wall here, because there wasn't a good reason; Nick, if that was his real name, was hiding something. She kept quiet as the silence began to hang thick and heavy over the both of them; Judy could see sweat beginning to form on his paw pads. She couldn't think of any other questions that would increase her chances of surviving alone or with him, but…
"And this really isn't some elaborate plot to kill me?" She knew it was a stupid question; hell, it would've been smarter to ask why she hadn't been killed already. Still, something deep in her psyche needed the answer.
"I promise. On whatever that's worth," he said, his tone somewhere between reassuring and terrified.
His word wasn't worth much, if she was being honest, but this was still her best chance at survival. If she was lucky, Nick's family would have a phone she could get to Clawhauser with.
The knife returned to her back pocket.
"Look, Nick," she began, turning around to gather the backpack and case, "You couldn't even imagine what Zootopia's like for prey, but I'm sure you can figure out that I'm not in any hurry to get back."
Judy could hear her heart pounding in her chest like a one-mammal band; under any other circumstances, mouthing off to a predator like that would be suicide. The sparks of defiance that'd nearly been crushed by her failures began to flare back up with anger.
"So here's the deal: you're going to take me to the nearest phone, I might tell you how I escaped the city, and then we'll part ways. Forever. Understand?" she said icily, stuffing the case into her backpack. She hoped dearly he wouldn't ask about it.
Nick nodded silently, his tail twitching. "It's about a mile and a half walk back. Do you think you can make it?" he asked. Judy couldn't tell if his concern was genuine.
She stood unsteadily, dropping back to the ground after feeling both her legs tense up like her muscles had been swapped with rubber bands. Running from the wolves had taken almost all of her energy - even while sitting, she could feel a cramp coming on. Walking back would only make things worse.
"Probably not," she muttered. They'd have to wait, and the sun was already beginning to set, bathing the field in a gentle soon-to-be-less-than-orange glow. If Nick hadn't noticed the spreading flames yet, he certainly would if they stayed.
The universe just had to get one more kick in, didn't it?
"I could carry you?" he asked. It came out more as a question than a suggestion; Judy narrowed her eyes, glaring at him with equal parts contempt and curiosity. He couldn't be serious.
"Look, I don't expect you to trust me," he said tiredly, extending a paw to her. "And I'm not going to pretend I understand what you've been through. But unless you have any other ideas - and trust me, things aren't going to get better if you wait here - then I need you to give me a chance."
Internally, her mind writhed at the thought of being so close to a predator; risk-takers (usually) didn't last long in Zootopia.
...but then again, she'd made it this far, and already agreed to come with him. What was one more batshit insane decision?
"Fine," she muttered, taking his paw. With surprising agility, Nick scooped her up onto his shoulders - ignoring the small shout she'd let out - and allowed her a moment to settle into the sudden piggyback ride.
"All good up there?" he asked, somehow joyful.
As much as she hated to admit it, riding on his shoulders was surprisingly comfy. The bone-deep instincts of run it's a fox run still bounced loudly around her head, but she managed to suppress most of them with the argument that this was (somehow) her best option.
"As good as I'm going to get," Judy mumbled stiffly. His rifle was frighteningly close to her - she knew how guns worked and that it wouldn't fire on its own, but the thought was still haunting that this was a weapon that easily could've killed her mere minutes ago - although she felt some relief knowing that he wouldn't be able to access it with her on his shoulders. Not much relief, granted, but still enough for her to let out some of the congealed stress.
Stumbling, Nick began walking in a seemingly random direction. She couldn't see anything in the distance, but it seemed unlikely he was going to carry her somewhere else before slaughtering her.
"How's the view?" he asked, still bizarrely cheerful.
She didn't respond. Whether this optimism was genuine or a ploy to lower her guard, the less she engaged him the better.
"Not much of a conversationalist, huh? No problem, I can work with tha-"
"Why are you being so... friendly?" Judy cut in, a sudden burst of curiosity overriding her common sense. She'd never met a predator - besides Clawhauser, but he didn't really count - who would spend more than a minute of their attention to the thoughts of a prey mammal, much less carry them a mile or two at dusk. It was throwing her survival instincts into a tailspin.
Judy felt him shrug, bouncing her up a half-inch from his shoulders. "Would you rather I eat you?" he deflected jokingly.
She didn't have a good answer to that.
"Besiiiiiiides," he drawled theatrically, plodding along a little faster, "I figure you'd like a distraction from… everything. I sure needed one."
Curious, she glanced down at the top of his head. Knowing more about this fox might give her some much-needed leverage.
"Sorry about that, by the way. I know that maybe we didn't get off on the right paw, with me shoving a gun in your face and all, but if you really did escape Zootopia then I think we'll be fast friends," he said, beginning to babble. She had a feeling it was a nervous tic.
"We aren't ever going to be friends, fox," she said flatly.
He shrugged again, sidestepping an especially tall patch of grass. "Hey, you never know. I'm sure weirder things have happened."
Again, Judy wasn't sure what to say back to that. The day was starting to finally catch up to her, and she could feel her thoughts start to haze with fatigue. She tried to mumble something back - whether it was an acknowledgement or a protest, she wasn't sure - but the subtle rise and fall of his shoulders was lulling her into sleep, and even the thought of falling asleep next to a predator was outweighed by the sheer exhaustion she felt.
Surely he wouldn't notice if she took a quick nap?