Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from Zootopia are owned by Disney the great and powerful. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners.

Idea swiped from a British mystery writer you've probably never read. Only the species were changed to protect the innocent.

World's End

Some called the region the Wild, others called it the Waste. In the old wolf tongue it was called World's End. Some claimed it as the wolves ancestral homeland, while other legends claimed the wolves were driven there by combined species for their reluctance to join the Great Peace. Some wolf scholars claimed it was settled by wolf outlaws, driven out from the original wolf lands (the same scholars disagreed about the exact location of their original lands)...

That was ancient history and speculation. All species now lived in the fertile lowlands. The population of the mountainous north remained largely wolf, with tourism the biggest industry – money send home by the sons and daughters who left for more opportunities being the second largest source of income. Few but wolves lived on the islands beyond the mountains. When the world was imagined to be flat the islands represented the end of the world to the wolves who fished for a living.

Few but wolves lived on the islands. Few but wolves visited. His species proclaimed the fox a stranger as much as his tailored suit.

"They have invented something called the internal combustion engine," the fox informed the old wolf at the tiller of the small craft.

"Aye."

"You could–"

"Pay for the engine, and fuel, and repairs, and still be stranded at sea when something breaks."

The fox changed the subject. "How long 'til we arrive?"

The wolf scanned the skies. "Wind holds, maybe half an hour. Wind shifts... tomorrow if the weather improves."

"Tomorrow?"

"Aye. We turn back to Oakhaven."

"It's that dangerous?"

"Two months ago a stranger was fool enough to hire a boat to see the islands – and Alexander Milne a bigger fool to rent it. At least Alexander got his boat back. Washed ashore at Knife Cay next week – bottom up. Never found the stranger."

"If you say we need to go back to Oakhaven I'll trust you."

"I might be a bit late with the warning, but the sea and weather aren't the biggest danger. Silas Fraser doesn't like company."

"I sent him a letter three weeks ago."

"It's been three months since he came into Oakhaven to pick up mail... Years ago there were forty Fraser families living on Tern Island – Must have been quite the pack back in the day. Just Silas now – and he prefers to be alone."

"I have a proposal here that could bring a fortune to–"

The wolf spit into the ocean, "I don't think that'll work on Silas. But you're paying me to ferry you – not my opinion."

Twenty-five minutes later the old wolf tied the boat to the battered remnants of an ancient dock. "The great house hasn't been lived in for years." He pointed, "See that rock? Path's on the other side. Straight up the hill to the cottage. I'll wait here an hour. Most likely you'll be back at a run in four minutes with your tail between your legs. You're not back in an hour and I'll tell the constable to come looking for you."

"No word of introduction?"

The wolf missed, or ignored, the sarcasm in the fox's tone. "I was paid to ferry, not annoy Silas. Your business is your own."

The island's sole inhabitant had seen the boat approaching. The fox was startled to find a wolf holding a large club as he reached the top of the small hill. "Go away."

"Silas Fraser?"

"Yes. Leave."

"I came a long way to talk with–"

"I don't care."

"This proposal might make you a very rich wolf."

"I... What proposal?"

"Which is what I am here to discuss."

"Can you give me–"

"Details? Happy to oblige," the fox assured him and pointed to his briefcase. "Step inside for a minute? Don't want the papers blowing away."

The large center room took up most of the cottage. The fox had no desire to look at any small rooms to the back or side. The wolf pointed to a large table, filthy from the butchering of fish and fowl. The wolf demanded. "Papers, you say? What's this about?"

"Several months ago an industrial geologist conducted a survey in the islands and he came ashore here–"

"Here? When?"

"You must have missed him. I'm not sure what day he was here. Anyway, one of your beaches has a particularly fine grade of sand for the production of silicon chips and–"

"Silicon chips?"

"Used in production of computers. He took samples from a number of these islands, but this was the best he found... Can I show you a map of where the sand was located?" asked the fox, opening his briefcase.

"Uh, sure."

The fox opened the map and pointed to an area marked with a red boundary. The wolf picked up the map to study it. "Now, he was just performing a preliminary survey. Outtel will need a more detailed survey conducted, so they can give a better estimate of the potential profits for you... Can I see the map again?"

The wolf put down the map and the fox drew a larger circle around the beach already marked. "The sands might extend further than the red lines, of course. Even a portion of that original area probably represents ten million credits. If the sand extends into the larger area there is no way to tell how much it might be worth. Are you interested? Would you allow a more detailed survey of the area?"

The wolf examined at the map again. "Ten million was low end of the estimate?"

"It was."

"I'm interested."

"Thanks. Can I get a signature or two for–"

"I'm not signing rights away?"

"Heavens no. A real contract requires witnesses. This says you agree to allow a better survey. Any actual offer will be based on the detailed survey. Outtell is anxious for your permission. There are a couple animals waiting in Oakhaven to conduct the mapping – after your approval. Harvesting sand could begin in as little as three months."

"And payments?"

"Would start before harvesting, with your profits defined in any contract prior to work beginning."

The fox began collecting the papers and the map. "Can I keep this?" asked the wolf.

"Let me give you a clean copy. That circle I drew is hardly scientific. I was just telling you the area we're interested in might be even bigger." He folded the map he had shown and presented the wolf with a new map.

As the fox worked the wolf asked, "Where you from?"

"Zootopia."

"Ever heard of my brother, Samuel Fraser?"

"Zootopia is a big city."

"He went by Scamming Sam."

The fox paused in thought before fastening the briefcase, "Scamming Sam... That sounds..." He frowned, "Could I have heard about that on the news? I... Was your brother a criminal?"

"It wouldn't surprise me. What did you hear?"

The fox held up his paws. "I don't remember. It was weeks ago. The police were looking for him? Maybe he's in jail awaiting trial or something."

"Sounds like Samuel." The wolf shook his head in wonder, "He runs off to the city looking to make it rich, and I make it rich by sitting on Tern Island."

They shook paws and the fox hurried down to the waiting boat.

The wolf on the boat waved, "Wasn't sure I'd see you again. You escaped?"

The fox held up the briefcase, "Success! Fortune favors the bold!"

"Or the foolish," the wolf thought as he untied the boat.

A rabbit and local wolf constable named Ewan waited anxiously at the Oakhaven dock. "Nick!" the rabbit cried as the boat approached the dock.

Living dangerously the fox stood up in the boat and waved the briefcase, "Got everything I want right here!"

"Shut up, and sit down," the old wolf at the tiller growled.

After the boat tied up Judy hopped into Nick's arms as soon as he climbed out on something solid.

"Miss me, Carrots?"

"Of course not," she giggled, kissing him. "The idea of you going off alone to see a dangerous wolf? No worries. It gave me time for shopping here in Oakhaven."

"Not that we have much to offer here," the constable apologized.

"I have everything I want right here," Judy said, referring to the fox she had her arms wrapped around.

"You talked with Silas Fraser? He agreed to a survey?" Ewan asked in disbelief.

"Sure did," the fox assured him.

Judy frowned as she looked at her husband, "Nick, will that fur dye wash out as easily as they said?"

"And how would I know, my dear, until we try?"

Judy grinned, "Tub later. We need to see what you have."

"Sure do. Where's Nibbles?"

Nesbitt Gnawer, a pawprint analyst, sat on a table at the local waiting for the trio. Knowing his job was important he had restricted himself to eating the salted peanuts. The chipmunk had worked up a powerful thirst and was delighted when they arrived at the booth.

"Ready for work?" asked Judy.

"Desperate," Nibbles confirmed. "May try and drown myself in a pint when I'm done."

"Depending on the results?"

"Frankly, I don't care one way or the other. But let's see what you have." As he spoke he spread out the photographs he'd been sitting on. He didn't really think it necessary – he assumed he'd recognize the correct prints, but his job called for certainty, not assumptions.

Nick took out the map, "Table was filthy. Got wonderful prints for you."

"You did indeed," the chipmunk agreed. He stared at the prints on the map, then went back to consult the photographs. Then back to the new prints. Then the photos...

"There a problem?" Judy asked.

"My reputation is based on accuracy, not speed," Gnawer sniffed. "Oh, I was joking about drowning myself in a pint. You and Nick–"

"Will pull you out before you actually drown."

"Thanks... And you two have your wolf. This is an absolute definite. Look at this little scar on the left paw," he said pointing at the dirty map, "an exact match to the record – as if any other proof was needed. You met Samuel Fraser this afternoon."

"Suspected as much," the constable said, "as soon as you said he signed. Silas would have run you off, you couldn't have offered him enough money. But if that's Samuel... What happened to Silas?"

"Saw what might have been a grave," Nick told him. "Off to the left as you enter the cottage."

The constable shook his head, "Killing a member of your own pack... Your own brother? Hard to believe any wolf would sink that low."

"Have you seen the crimes he's charged with?" asked Judy. "Will this interfere with the extradition order?"

"We don't know that he killed his brother," Nick pointed out. "Need to see if there's a body in the spot I saw, and how long he might have been dead. Alexander Milne can probably furnish us a date for Samuel arriving."

"It'll take time to establish time and manner of death," the constable agreed. "Best if Samuel found his brother's body when he returned to Tern Island. Charge of murder? Juries come down hard on a wolf killing a member of his pack. Charge of murder would wait until he gets back from prison in Zootopia – if he lives that long. Murder charge, if we have one here, can wait."

"Thanks," Judy told him. "I think Nick said he agreed to a 'survey team' coming out tomorrow and look at the beach."

Nick confirmed the thought, "He'll probably be down at the dock to welcome them. He escaped the dragnet in Zootopia and will give himself up here... Ewan?"

"Yes?" the constable answered.

"Legal possession of Tern Island. Did Silas own it?"

"Can't tell you. Don't know. Why?"

"The sand story is true. The chip maker wants to develop Tern Island, and it would mean a lot of money for the owner. Judy and I stumbled on that when we were looking for relatives Sam might have, and put it in our hustle. Of course, if Silas had ownership and Samuel did kill him I don't think the law would let him inherit, at least not in Zootopia."

"Nor here. Silas was the only Fraser who wanted to live out there... Don't know how the pack determines actual ownership... Might not even have one, might be shared."

Judy sighed, "I'm predicting the lawsuit of Fraser v. Fraser v. Fraser could drag out for years."

"Long enough to make a lot of lawyers a lot of money," Nick seconded.

"Line of inheritance might be clear in Fraser pack law," the constable said, "and since your computer chip maker won't pay until they start to work – and won't work without a contract – I can see any possible heirs coming to an agreement quickly."

For almost another hour they talked of the team going to Tern Island, and made guesses about inheritance and what might happen to Oakhaven's economy. Then Judy pulled the chipmunk out of his mug of ale and she and Nick returned to the small inn to see how easily Nick's disguise could be removed.