One thing that each and every single mammal in Zootopia- and in every country on this continent- is that if Mayor Dawn Bellwether wants your head, wants something, wants your life, wants anything from you, then she won't stop at anything to get it, even if that means ending whatever pitiful existence you have. Especially if it means ending whatever pitiful existence you have, then by the Celestials above she will get it from you.
I think that we're all really learning that the hard way- and that usually involves us getting the hammer brought down on us, hard.
Marian's tending to Ben, who's sitting up on a cot that they've set up for him. A whole other bunch of rabbits- a flock? A pack? No, that's not the right word- anyways, that's besides the point, my best friend- my only friend- and my mother- my own mother- they're missing, and I've had the creeping colds that run up and down my spine all day, all the time. I'm on edge, and gods damn it are we ever living on the edge.
If there's anything that's come of this, I think, it's that all of us are willing to let it all come to blows if it really needs to.
"Was there anyone coming after you, Ben?" one of the thousands of rabbits asks, a brown one with blue eyes this time, tending to the cheetah's scratches and all of the bruises that are showing through fur matted with dirt and sweat and more than a little blood.
Panting, breaths labored, the poor, bone-thin mammal shakes his head. Oh thank the Celestials above. We need the damn break. "She- she just told me to come to you… that's all I know, she just let me run… has to be a trap… I'm- I'm- I'm no fool, not at all not a fool so it has to be a trap and for by the Celestials above-"
He's delirious, that much is obvious, and I really really feel for him. I want to help but there's well, what can I do, really? I've spent so much time since all this scat went down thinking about where Judy and Mom and the Wildes are.
"So they're not right on our tails?"
"No, I- I don't think s- so, Nick," he stutters, wobbling on his paws. He really doesn't look good. I know that he's gonna hate me for this, for keeping him awake for even longer when I can tell that he desperately needs to go to bed, to get a chance at long, long long long last to not be stressed and to relax for once, but I need to know one thing first, one thing.
"Hey, Ben?"
"What, Nick?" he grumbles.
"Was Judy with them?"
"With that demon of a sheep? I think so…"
"Tell me more?" I ask, almost pleading, knowing that I'm not gonna be able to get an answer out of him.
"Lemme rest okay?" he says by way of an answer- it's not really much of an answer, but I have somewhere to start- and plenty of things to make me pace throughout the next several hours. I can't eat, and besides, there's plenty that I'm worrying about right now, I don't really want to sleep.
That's probably going to come back to bite me right in the tail one of these days- tomorrow, even- but screw it, I'd rather be tired in the morning than waking up in the morning sick to my stomach because I've let the anxiety brew. Never a good idea to let that happen, I know what that's going to make me if I let it go.
"Okay, Ben," I say, and the poor worn mammal curls up into a bony circle on the floor. I don't have a blanket that I can drape over him, and I know that he really needs one…
Sneaking over to one of the hundreds of beds that now lie empty, I pick up one for him and drape it over… I'd pick him up but I don't want an angry cat after me… I've already got a few deranged sheep and that's more than enough for a start.
A few seconds later he's out like a light, and it's the pain of slamming snout-first into the ground that makes me realize that the same thing just happened to me- wait, no, I'm really really really tired… was I pacing all night?
If the way that my paws are aching is any sign, then that's a yes, and the pain from those and my now-sprained tail and my banged-up nose are all competing for the ever-so-lofty- title of "most likely to incapacitate Nick…"
Point is I hate this and it sucks- but hey, it could be worse, right?
The last time I said that- or heck, the last time that I even thought it, just thought it for the quickest of quick seconds, I managed to do a stupid, and not even just a tiny stupid, a huge freaking stupid because I let my guard down and managed to let us get ambushed…
That's not happening again, though, if I have anything to say about it, not at all. I know how to fight, if that's really what it might come down to- and I'm entirely and utterly prepared for that distinct possibility…
At least Ben is safe, right? Right? Gods I hope so, I'd hate to have him have crawled all the way here and to be safe only to get himself captured again…
Okay, Nick, push yourself up off of the ground now, that's a good mammal, let's go, ow ow ow holy hell this sucks!
Is Otto still awake? I don't know, all I really know is that I'm dead set on ignoring the pain that I'm feeling for as long as I can. It's probably not healthy, but I need answers more than I need to take care of myself-
"Pop-pop's dead!" I hear voices scream, many many many at the same time, and I can hear the sticking of paws coming running- and I know that kind of sticking, that means that he didn't, well, he didn't just slip away- and seeing as I didn't hear anything either- or even see anything happen, not even a scream, nothing, that probably- very, very, very probably- means that whoever did that, whoever could have committed such a heinous act- is probably still around- and then I feel cold steel press against the back of my neck, and, well, we're screwed!