EDITED BY: DrummerMax64
Chapter Fifteen - Calm...
...According to a public report on file with the Zootopia Police Department, there was an instance where the officer on the case determined that the term 'Nighthowler' was being used as a pseudonym for the security group hired to guard the missing mammals found at Cliffside Asylum, who are filed officially as 'The Lost Pack Security Agency.' Due to the sensitivity and secrecy of the Agency's operation, while probable, the possibility of the group's codename having been assigned this is slim at best, as there were no other references available to support this. However, what most mammals don't realize is that the term 'Nighthowler' has another meaning, which happens to be its official name. It is referred most commonly to botanists, florists, and farmers as Midnicampum Holicithias, a Class-C botanical known to have a distinct chemical property that is used by most farmers to ward off insects on other surrounding crops. To explain further, please refer to the transcripts of Alabaster Snow, Stewart Hopps, Jane Thumper, Timothy Bucks, Howard Grey, Bruce Catmull, and Frederick Lupin.
This chemical that is given off by these plants is strong. The effects of the flower are said to "rival that of some forms of pesticides," as stated by Frederick. Moreover, farmers such as Jane and Timothy believe that these plants are dangerous if not handled with extreme care, expressing their deep concern with their children about going near the plants at all. Both Stewart's and Alabaster's accounts specifically state this to be the case, as they recall instances where family members had ingested the flower whole and had to be hospitalized due to sudden unwarranted, aggressive, and uncharacteristic behavior not shown before by either victim.
Further information also suggests that canid families such as the Snows, Lupins, and Greys refer to the plant by its nickname rather than its official term, while feline families—the Catmulls in this case—and rabbit families—which include the Thumpers, Hoppses, and Bucks—prefer the official naming of the plant. For canids, it is believed that the nickname derives from the night because of the flower's look. As seen from the picture attached, the rich purple hue and yellow gradient interior look similar to the glow of the moon against the night sky, something that holds paramount personal and cultural significance for wolves. It is safe to assume that this knowledge of the origins of the more common nickname appear foreign to the remainder of the city populace, which consists mostly of prey mammals.
Compared to the urban setting of Zootopia, farming is all but extinct. According to Alabaster, most flower stores within the city limits rarely have Midnicampum Holicithias in stock, so mammals who do not have the technical know-how with floristry, botany, or a background in farming would not be privy to this information, more so if the mammal had not grown up in a canid environment. Even with the urban mammal utopia, the plant isn't entirely impossible to purchase. Almost all florists located in the city supply 'Nighthowlers' in its seed form, and comes with a hefty price tag. This high cost has left some in search of this plant desperate with the recent increase in robberies around Savannah Central and Happytown specifically, leaving flower shops in those areas reeling for answers as to why one of the only items stolen were Midnicampum Holicithias.
…
Edward stared at the document on the screen of Charles' personal laptop, his eyes wandering to the blinking cursor fading in and out of existence after a quick glance over what he had written on the page, prying away his thin attention span. The music playing through his earbuds was no longer working, and even the coffee he was drinking moments before had already begun to backfire on him.
With a sigh, he pinched the bridge of his snout, then went to rub his strained eyes. It was a feeble attempt to keep his focus and stay awake, almost succumbing to it. He needed to fight the urge to sleep. He could feel his body's desire for rest. After squaring things with Alabaster, walking around for interviews around the Burrows, and revealing his relationship with multiple mammals, Edward was physically and emotionally drained. It began to show in the form of inattentiveness and sluggish processing. What made matters worse was that his task was nowhere near complete.
It took Edward all the strength he had to come to a consensus on his next move. It was a big deal. His choice affected his life significantly considering the financial and safety implications. Simply knowing was overwhelming. Unsurprisingly, a mild anxiety attack took hold and shook the wolf up, his friends voicing their concern and reassurances. But, he managed to find his resolve and finalized his decision to drop the story assigned by his boss and forfeiting his job at the Gazette. Edward knew Charles was right, and Anders agreed; their job security and safety were moot if it meant saving the lives of countless mammals. It was a risk they had to be willing to take – after all, as Anders said to him, 'fortune favors the bold.'
So the trio immediately went to work compiling everything they had on 'Nighthowlers.' They began by making physical copies of their recordings in the form of transcripts and printing physical copies of what pictures they had on file of the flower. Edward went to work creating a report of their findings and their claim, while Charles and Anders planned out their next step. That was hours ago. It was nearing two-thirty in the morning now, and it seemed that their momentum was starting to die down. With so much to still do before they could send their findings to the ZPD and the need for absolute perfection, they needed to be at their best.
Curious as to how Anders and Charles were faring, the wolf glanced over his shoulder at his two colleagues and observed them from afar. Charles looked unfazed from the effects of sleep, appearing almost stoic as he worked through their information. Anders, on the other paw, was somewhat functional, but he was clearly beginning to struggle now that he was on his second cup of coffee.
Both predator and prey discussed silently amongst themselves while the wolf continued staring. Edward wasn't curious enough to attempt to eavesdrop, nor did he have the willpower to turn down the music blasting in his ears, so he tried his best to read their lips, but to no avail. He struggled to make out even a single word from their conversation, and eventually he gave up, resigning himself to not being in the know. He would figure out where they were soon enough.
Edward closed the laptop after saving the document. With a stretch, he got up and sluggishly trod over to the dinner table where Charles and Anders were working. When they noticed the wolf, their conversation ceased, flashing a pair of smiles his way.
"Where are we at?" the wolf asked exhaustedly, taking out one of the earbuds in his ears and rubbing his eyes.
"We're close to finishing the transcripts and we printed most of the pictures you sent us," Charles answered. "Now we're moving onto what we still need, which is still a lot."
"We still have a couple of things we need to answer before we can finalize anything," Anders added, "such as 'what's making the effects of the flower last so long,' or 'how are they picking their targets,' and obviously, 'who's behind all this.' So, to start, we're creating a list of all the flower shops in the city, starting with Savannah Central. We need to find out which stores stock Midnicampum and which don't, then find out how many stores out of that bunch have been broken into, and finally, see if any of the owners are MIA. After that, we need to figure out if our perps are buying the plant legitimately or not. If we're lucky, we might find something."
"Or someone," Charles reminded.
"That sounds…" a yawn escaped the wolf's snout, a sharp but quiet whine piercing the air as his head fell into his arms on the back of a wooden chair, "...like a plan."
"Looks like our little wolfy's getting sleepy," the tiger grinned with a sing-song tone.
"Just a little bit…" Edward managed to get out before shutting his eyes.
"Why don't you head on home and leave the rest to us," Anders offered. Edward's eyes shot back open. "I'm sure you're far enough along in the summary to warrant some sleep. Where are you at on it?"
"I finished our findings in the Burrows and explained what Midnicampum is. I'm working on the connection between the florists right now."
"Perfect. We still need some of that info, so I think that'll be enough for tonight."
"I'll pick up your stuff back at the office tomorrow," Charles said. "That way you won't have to bother with taking the subway. I'm sure Sharla will appreciate it."
"I don't know," Edward muttered sullenly, rubbing the back of his neck with his paw. "I hope me quitting isn't going to hurt us in any way."
"I'm sure she won't mind considering the circumstances. She'll understand."
When Edward didn't reply, he noticed the corners of Charles's mouth dipping slightly into a near frown. He should believe his friend. He definitely should believe in his wife. But, of course, he had his own doubts.
If his mother was still alive, she would have scolded him for sure. How was abandoning a dream remotely understandable? If she wouldn't let Alabaster give up his dream at owning and running a farm, she'd be damned if she gave up on him, and he was positive that after tonight she would be rolling in her grave. Maybe it was better to say he was putting his dream on hold instead of a full stop? He wasn't sure. Breaking the news to Sharla was going to be tough. He didn't want any of this situation to end up pushing her away.
There was a lot for Edward to consider before he arrived back at his apartment.
An orange paw rested atop the wolf's shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Get some rest, Ed. You need it."
"We've got it covered," Anders assured. "We should have more information by the time you get back, so just take it easy. This isn't going anywhere."
"Right," Edward mumbled.
He didn't have much input on the matter. Personally, Edward felt like there was still more he could have done to help further their progress, but he knew that the exhaustion overwhelming him wasn't going to help him think clearly, which wouldn't translate well on his summary if he continued working.
Without so much as a word, the wolf collected whatever belongings he had that made it outside of his backpack, almost managing to trip on the leg of the nearby coffee table, uttering his trademark curse that gained a chuckle from Charles and a roll of the eyes from Anders. A bright red blush flushed into the canid's face and ears and, slightly embarrassed, he turned his back to both mammals with some newfound adrenaline.
"See you later, guys." The wolf awkwardly waved behind him, Charles and Anders voicing their goodbyes before Edward was finally up and out of the apartment.
He found himself down the couple flights of stairs and out of the building in record time, burning off whatever embarrassment and excess energy that remained in his system. A mental map of the city flashed in his head while he walked up the boulevard, eventually determining the most optimal route to lead him back home. With his course set, he let out a yawn and basked in the view of the city's skyline. It was truly a marvelous sight.
Marvelous… Edward repeated, unsure if his use of the word was truly warranted.
It was a strange feeling, looking upon the city in a new light. He no longer needed to worry about turning into a 'savage,' hell-bent on maiming and mauling everything in his path, plus the emptiness he felt regarding the newfound strength of his familial ties was surprisingly fuller for the first time in his life, while the other mammals in the city continued turning on each other, descending further into madness. Edward, like the other residents living within Zootopia, should be frightened. Considering how the last month had played out for him, he should be feeling melancholic. Should he run down the list again?
His mother just passed away. His dream was being snatched away from him without so much as a word. With the new light shed on savage predators (or rather, mammals) in the city, his safety was at risk. The citizens of the city were starting to turn against who he was as a predatory animal—that is, if they weren't already. And if the prejudice wasn't bad enough, his very marriage was another monster entirely. With the notion of it being taboo already, the very idea of a pred-prey relationship sparked controversy. Not only was it rare, it was virtually unrealistic to find an interspecies couple who were natural enemies.
However, Edward found himself in an interesting position. He wasn't feeling sad, or fearful… for the most part. In fact, he felt quite the opposite. The weight, the tremendous pressure put on him through years of hardship, had up and vanished without a trace. Amidst the chaos, apart from the usual anxiousness he felt and the understandable fear of something new on the horizon, he felt surprisingly safe.
Edward was surrounded by groups of mammals who loved and supported him. He was married to an incredible mammal who loved and supported him through thick and thin. Even after many years, his family was on his side. This strange feeling was remarkably similar to what he had felt on the car ride back to the Bunnyburrow Train Station. Was this what confidence felt like?
Edward shook his head in disbelief and chuckled to himself, "I must really be exhausted."
When his eyes caught the stunning skyline once more, he took in its features, nearly stopping in his tracks. There was never a chance that he would get tired of it. Rain or shine, night or day, he was blessed that he had the pleasure of calling the city of Zootopia 'home.' Regardless of the hecklers and the settlers who stated otherwise, it was truly the place where anyone could be anything. Edward and Sharla, Gideon, and even Judy Hopps herself were living proof of that ideal. That was the reason he needed to pursue these 'Nighthowlers.' Not for some story, not some job, but for the city he loved.
Anyone can be anything, right? Edward asked himself. The thought ran through his head again, and again, until finally humoring the idea with another. So why not be a hero?
o o o
He's going to hate me, Charles glumly concluded, sipping at a stemless glass full of delicious cabernet sauvignon.
The tiger was resting alone on the sofa in his living room, trying to take a load off after a long night's work by enjoying a nice glass of wine from a bottle he had sitting open on the counter. He truly needed it after tonight, and he wasn't about to waste the alcohol. So Charles rightfully indulged his gullet, replaying the events of that night in his head.
After hours of careful deliberation, collecting, and planning, their small group had built up enough evidence to begin tackling the missing links that had yet to be discovered within their pile of transcripts, reports, and photographs.
The first question the three of them deduced from their collection was the need to find out why the effects of Midnicampum Holicithias were still present in the afflicted predators. Anders was the first to bring this up. Since they were certain the flower itself wasn't found anywhere with any of the mammals at the scene of where they'd turned—to their knowledge—the running theory was that someone was abusing the plants and its chemicals to somehow turn them into something drastically more potent, similar to the strength of some pharmaceutical drugs such as ibuprofen and morphine. Moreover, the higher concentration of Nighthowler meant that either the chemical would have to come into direct contact with the victim, or it was injected directly into the bloodstream. If they were fortunate enough, if the chemical made contact with any of the predators, this would mean that they would have traces of it laced into the strands of their fur. Unfortunately, they had no way of knowing for sure. Due to the lack of trust in the ZPD and the scarcity of evidence overall, they had no way to prove it. Their claim was a crapshoot at best.
The other major question they felt inclined to answer was the way predators were being targeted in the city. What was the selection process? Was there one to begin with? Was randomization taken into consideration? How did the timing work? Apart from what they knew about mammals who got too close to the truth, there wasn't much that could be deduced from the list of mammals they had. Before they came to any conclusion, they needed to get more information, which meant they had to be patient.
Lastly, came the big one: who? Who in their right mind would terrorize the city of Zootopia and its predators? Ex-Mayor Lionheart seemed like a good mammal, someone who could be trusted. Charles trusted him. Edward trusted him. Even Anders did. The more Charles recalled the events that Judy outlined in her report and the evidence their small team collected, it was obvious that all Lionheart wanted to do was get the savage mammals contained and understand the issue. Except, he wasn't even close to cracking the case. Although what Lionheart did in kidnapping the savage mammals was inherently wrong, it was clear he shared no involvement in the attacks themselves. Like Lionheart, they didn't have a clue who might be doing this or why. The trail wasn't cold yet, but if their flower shop lead didn't get them to where they needed to be, there was a good chance they'd be back at square one. Letting the trail go cold was not an option. Charles wouldn't let it.
Their research into flower shops around the city was the next step, and if they could find anything remotely close to a lead, it would be groundbreaking. Surely it wouldn't within the next few hours? Right? That's why Charles had the wine in the first place. Considering how the tiger was feeling, he felt like he deserved a glass or two. Which led to the other reason for his late night drink: Edward.
Charles took another sip of his wine the moment his best friend's name crossed his mind, savoring the dry, rich, and tantalizing flavor it brought to his taste buds. It was a great distraction.
To be more specific, what troubled Charles the most about the whole situation was their jobs at the Gazette. It was the fact that Edward alone was receiving the brunt of Danielle Horn's wrath, costing the wolf both his job and his dream, and there was nothing Charles could do to stop it. Even the recording he had of Horn was practically useless with the attack involving Kristy. It was her ace in the hole, and with it being so close to the office, Horn would be considered right in her judgment. Edward's fate was sealed.
Charles wanted to do more. He wanted very much to fight for his friend's job and keep working to get their story out to the public so they could save the city. If he weren't so tight on money, he wouldn't have second thoughts about joining Edward, and the last thing he wanted was to burden Edward or Sharla again financially. He needed this job. If he left the Gazette, he would once again have to go on a job hunt. Considering his past experience trying to find work, it would be near impossible with the city in chaos. Who in their right mind would hire another predator if they had the chance of going savage? Charles knew without a doubt he had nothing to worry about as long as he played their story close to the chest, but the rest of Zootopia didn't know what was truly going on.
How am I going to tell him? Charles debated. He's lost so much. Now he's forced to give up his job, alone, and now I have to explain to him how I selfishly put my own job ahead of his. Horn, you're a fucking bitch.
He scoffed at the derogatory insult and stared down the red liquid in his glass. Even though Edward's situation technically wasn't his fault, Charles knew that he played a part in withholding crucial information from his friend for the sake and security of his own job. There wasn't any point in lying to him either. Charles didn't have the heart to. He'd be lucky if he didn't lose Edward in the process. Lying would make the situation ten times as worse in the long run. Their friendship meant the world to him. Losing Edward meant losing a piece of who Charles was, and that notion frightened him the most.
Another sip of his wine bounced around the insides of his mouth. Swallowing brought a drawn out sigh laced with the contentment and frustration he felt.
I guess I have to tell him the truth.
o o o
After living in the Grand Pangolin Arms for the better part of three years, Edward concluded that the complex was virtually sneakproof.
The creaky floorboards that made up the hallways of the complex were old, to say the least. A single step onto one of these wooden boards would foil any opportunity of a surprise encounter. At night, this issue only managed to worsen. Even without attuned hearing, the loud creaking was a sound that often woke most mammals up, Edward and Sharla included. So when it became a common problem with residents, it was understandable as to why. The main concern was it made it difficult for those who had opposite sleep schedules. But, instead of fixing the problem, their landlord was taking her sweet time. This left the bulk of the residents to deal with the constant creaking.
Those who worked night shifts had long since left, so the complex would be silent. The last thing Edward wanted was to cause a noise complaint. As if a stroke of dumb luck had brushed his fur, he wasn't as loud as he thought he would be.
For starters, the door didn't catch on the frame like it had previously, preventing what should have been a loud crash on the floor. Then, as he ascended up to the third floor, the steps of the stair maintained their silence thanks to Edward's careful maneuvering. Finally, as he walked the final stretch towards his apartment, the dreaded floorboards became his last obstacle. After a handful of cautious, stressful steps, he found himself standing in front of his apartment door. His ears flicked in several directions to make sure. Not a sound.
Edward let out the pent-up breath he didn't realize was hiding in his lungs. He finally made it back home. The wolf stared at the gold numbers '302' while he dug through his left pocket for the key. Several seconds passed him by, then he stood there confused as he checked again.
"..."
Nothing. His pocket was empty. Edward's heart began to race as he dug into his right pocket, removing his phone to make the search easier, only to find it also missing his key. Worried that he might misplace his phone as well, he stuffed the device back where it was. When checking his back pockets brought a similar fate, his dread fell into a minor panic. This was due in part to their armadillo landlady and making sure residents kept track of their keys at all times. What made this worse, however, was because he knew that the only way he was getting in was sleeping beyond that door.
He and Sharla wouldn't normally worry about locking themselves out of their home. It happened all the time back when they were dorming at U-of-Z. Whether it was after the usual party, the late-night study sessions at the library, or several times in their current apartment, they managed to somehow leave or misplace their key. Of course, there was frustration on both sides, either about letting the other in or being the poor soul on the other side of the door. But they knew that it wasn't something to get too upset about. Mammals were far from perfect, and they were no exception.
In this instance, after an unannounced return from the Burrows, this would spark some sort of conversation. Edward wasn't prepared for that yet.
He looked down the hall and towards the stairs, finding the hallways of the complex vacant. The wolf rested his head on the door, contemplating his next move. Hiding from his wife, albeit a silly solution, wasn't an option, and neither was avoiding the issue. What was he going to do, hide out in the common area? She'd find out about his return sooner or later, whether it be from Charles or finding him while preparing a meal. He couldn't camp out in the hallway either, their landlady would have his head. A confrontation was inevitable.
Edward found some essence of resolve as he sucked in some air, bringing his paw up to the door. As he was about to knock on the door, he paused, then facepawed.
We have phones for a reason, dumb wolf, Edward thought to himself, pulling the device back out. Do you want to wake the entire floor?
He navigated to Sharla's contact and initiated the call without missing a beat, thinking it would be better to get this conversation out of the way sooner rather than later. The lupine brought the device to his ear. A couple rings played through the speaker, each tone a little more nerve-wracking than the last. In the middle of the fourth ring, he could hear Sharla's ringtone faintly through the door. Edward heard his ewe shuffle about in the room, followed by a loud groan. Then came her tired voice, both through the door and delayed through the speaker.
"Hello?" she asked groggily.
"Hey, Sharla."
"Eddy? What are you doing up?" She paused. "It's three in the morning."
"I came back from Bunnyburrow early. I think I forgot my key. Could you be the best wife in the world and open the door for a forgetful husband?"
Another annoyed groan left the ewe's throat, made louder through the door and the phone. "Gimme a sec," she complied, yawning uncaringly into the microphone, "I gotta put a shirt on."
The call abruptly ended, leaving Edward alone out in the hallway. During that time, a contagious yawn built up in his lungs. He noticed how tired he was becoming when he expelled the air. The sooner he relayed the news to Sharla, the quicker he could rest. He felt heavy after such a long day.
The door opened to reveal a half awake, half asleep ewe, struggling to find her balance on the handle of the door. As far as he could tell, the only article of clothing on her body appeared to be one of his many button-ups, lazily put together every other button. His cheeks and ears became increasingly warmer, lewd thoughts threatening to sully the task at hand. He quickly whisked himself inside the apartment before the thoughts took hold.
"I'm guessing I left my key in the bowl?" Edward asked as he shut the door.
"Mhmm," the sheep groaned with a nod.
Edward set his backpack on the ground near their 'closet' area, then found himself standing aimlessly in the middle of the room, mentally preparing himself. When he finally chose to open his maw, Sharla grabbed him by the paw and led him towards the bed, ceasing any sort of conversation. He was determined.
"Sharla," Edward came to a stop, ears drooping. "I need to talk to you about something."
"Can't it wait until tomorrow?" She climbed onto the bed and gave him a tired glance. "I need my big bad wolf to give me cuddles."
"It can't Shar. I need to talk about this now. It's serious."
Her expression immediately changed to that of confusion, worry, and care as she slowly made her way back over to him. She placed one hoof in his paw and the other over his stomach.
"What's wrong, hon? Was it the trip back to the Burrows? Was it your father? Did he say something awful again?"
"No, no. Nothing like that. He was quite admirable this time around. H-he even asked if you wanted to come over sometime." When he saw more confusion in her stare, he quickly shook it off and went straight to the point. "It's about work, Shar. You know, the story I'm doing with Charlie?"
"What about it?"
His anxious shaking once again made an untimely appearance, sneaking up on him upon her query, and he forced himself to sit on the couch to find his courage. He took a breath.
"We're walking out of our jobs, Sharla."
Silence. Five whole seconds of bone-chilling silence between husband and wife. She looked shocked.
"What?" Sharla finally managed to get out. "Why?"
"The story isn't what we thought it was. In order for us to make the cut for Sunday's headline we have to collect a whole new set of evidence with interviews and data, and we haven't even started writing it. Even if we started now, there's no way that we'd make Horn's deadline."
"You can't just give up, babe. Writing's your dream. You wanted this since you were little."
"We have no choice. If we run the story in its raw form right now, Horn would fire us on the spot. She wants a hit story. She wants perfection. What we have right now isn't even close. We were doomed to fail from the start." He paused, a thought bringing a melancholic energy to him. "Plus, I think it's for the best."
"What makes you say that?"
"Ever since we got back from Mom's funeral, the whole city's been turned upside down. Mammals fear of being mauled or maimed, and with more predators turning savage, it's all crazy. A co-worker of mine recently turned in the parking lot right outside our building, and knowing Danielle, I bet she's trying her best to create a safe environment for her staff… even if it means letting predators go."
"That's… that's wrong! She can't just fire mammals whenever she wants."
"Considering the circumstances, she's within her right. It's a judgment call. Either she eliminates the problem now to prevent a potential catastrophe, or she risks the lives of all the mammals on the floor. You know she's going with the former."
"But…"
"It's alright, Sharla. Trust me, I hate her and I hate that it's come to this, but I'm not going to fight it. I'm a wolf, a predatory animal. I don't want to risk anyone's life. I couldn't live with that on my conscience."
The two shared a moment of silence. Her hoof enveloped itself in Edward's grey and white-furred paw, the small show of understanding helping the wolf begin to slowly cope with this harsh reality.
"W-will we be okay?" Edward asked. "Will we still be able to manage with only one of us working?"
Sharla raised a brow. "Eddy, I make a six-figure salary. We're living in a shoebox, so rent's a breeze. Even if you were just a housemammal, we had another mouth to feed, and a better apartment, we'd still have some money to spare."
"Sorry," the wolf pouted, "I just don't want to feel like I'm not contributing—"
"You're fine, hon. It's not like this is gonna be a permanent thing. You're not the type of mammal to just sit around and do nothing all day. I know you'll find work sooner or later. Other news companies are bound to be hiring around the city with what's going on right now.. Besides, you're a hard-working mammal. You're reliable, caring, tenacious, and insanely cute, so who wouldn't hire you?"
The sentiment gained the wolf a smile. He was all of those things, or rather, she thought he was. Edward wasn't exactly beaming with self-confidence to begin with. To hear them coming from his mate, it definitely gave him a small boost.
"Thanks, Shar. You're right. I've got Charles with me too. At least I won't be alone in this."
"Thank the stars for that." She gave him a short kiss on the side of his muzzle. "It's what I'm here for, love. I'm sure you both will have jobs in no time. Now come on," the ewe pulled on his arm, "it's three in the morning. Let's at least try to get some sleep this time."
Edward didn't hesitate as he stripped away his button-up and jeans while Sharla took the shirt around her body off and threw it in the direction of the couch. Now in bed, the two mammals cuddled with each other, Sharla nuzzling the lupine's chest while silver and white-furred arms wrapped themselves around the ewe.
Sharla knew. She now knew about Edward leaving his job and supported the decision wholeheartedly. On top of that, because of Edward's careful wording, she had no knowledge of the specifics of the story and what's truly happening to predators in the city. He wanted to tell her, to show her that she had nothing to be afraid of. However, doing so would put her at risk from the thing he was trying to protect her from. It was a double-edged sword.
He stayed in his thoughts for the moment, trying to find some sort of solace that she would be safe, but he couldn't. What if she thought she wasn't safe? He didn't want to lose the best thing to ever happen to him. It was yet another concern looming over his head, and something he felt important to ask while he had the chance.
"These predators going savage… it's getting worse. I can't help but think that I'll turn into one of them, and that I'll hurt you somehow. Are… are you scared of me, Sharla? You know, with… everything going—"
Before he could finish, the ewe pulled the wolf even closer. She tugged gently on his fur and with a bleat enveloped him with her wonderful scent, just as she did the night prior. The intimate interaction was tantalizing, as it left him wanting more. But instead of playing on his lustful desires, her mark managed to calm his restless thoughts and whatever doubts he still had. She claimed all of his trust.
"I could never be afraid of you," she said assuredly, kissing him on the side of his muzzle. "I love you, my little pup."
"I love you too," he quietly let out. The corners of his mouth raised slightly. That sentiment was all he needed before his eyes finally closed and allowed sleep to claim him.
o o o
The ewe felt the warm, calming breaths of her mate's slumber, the rise and fall of his chest lulling her closer to sleep's clutches, and the comfortably soft fur that acted as a living pillow. If only she wasn't so rudely awakened by that phone call. How she was still awake after feeling so deathly tired moments before was baffling to her.
Getting a hunch as to the reason why, Sharla leaned her ear into the wolf and listened closely to his heartbeat.
Ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum…
Slow. Steady. Perhaps most importantly, calm. A wave of relief rushed over her. She looked up to catch a glimpse of her husband's features with a sigh.
When Sharla left Judy after lunch, the first thing she thought about was the happy memories she and Edward had shared. The rabbit had inquired a little more about the ewe's husband, such as his job and where he grew up. She didn't disclose the nastier side of the Snow family. That was a topic for another time, preferably with Edward explaining it all himself. She was happy.
Then she saw the news.
Another savage predator. Normally, she wouldn't worry about it, especially when it came to Edward and this problem. Her husband was a kind, good-natured mammal, so there was no chance of it happening to him. Right? That's what made this report different for Sharla. The predator involved was a snow leopard, Kristy Blanc. She was one of Edward's coworkers at the Gazette. At the time, she couldn't quite explain the jarring shift from her complacent stance on the recent attacks, but seeing the connection of his workplace made her worry. With Edward working at that news company, he had the chance of turning himself. Connecting the dots made something inside her snap. Every alarm bell inside her screamed 'danger,' all of which was directed towards her mate.
It hurt Sharla lying to Edward. It didn't sit right with her. In actuality, he was more worried than her, afraid that he might hurt her in any way. Turning savage was just another problem on Edward's growing list of 'shit that has/have/will go(ne) wrong.' Now they had to handle the repercussions of Edward walking away from his job—the most recent addition to that dreaded list. The world was crashing down on him, and here she was making things worse.
In all honesty, she was glad for Edward, even if some of the reasoning behind her happiness was strictly one-sided. But, it was less stress that Sharla and, more importantly, Edward had to deal with, and that's all that mattered.
If everything she was watching about the cases of savage predators was right, and that increased heart rate and blood pressure were key factors, then she was in trouble. How long before another bad hand was dealt Edward's way? How long before it could spell disaster? Then again, what if the experts were wrong? The issue was still new to Zootopia and had yet to be studied thoroughly. Maybe it wasn't his heart? Maybe it wasn't in his biology? Maybe there was no chance of him going savage?
This whole experience was foreign to her. With her outstanding confidence and gratuitous compassion, she shouldn't have been thinking this way. She couldn't think this way. She loved Edward. She loved everything about her husband. They were supposed to love and help each other through anything and overcome any obstacles thrown their way. They were mates. Playing with his trust was the last thing she should be doing.
But…
Sharla was still afraid. Not of what he was, she loved that part of him. But, rather, what he could very well become.
Even if she didn't show it, admitting to it was the toughest thing she had ever done. Losing the one she loved—that very prospect was what scared her the most, what brought her the first nightmares of this darker version of her husband. That was just the night prior.
Before she succumbed to sleep, she recalled an old talent show that she took part in, a play where three simple words labeled an entire population. She never thought those three words would come back to haunt her, but they were going to fuel yet another bad dream for tonight.
Fear. Treachery. Bloodlust.