The three bucks watched as the black, square-bodied Furd tore out of the yard. The air was tinged with the levity of both happiness and concern. Safety was paramount, but they all understood now that there was a specific set of rules for foxes. Multiple fields of specific rules, rather. Some of those things were only followed as guidelines for rabbits. Things that could be interpreted, at one's own discretion, and bent if they needed to be.
"Filling in the gravel is on you, Old Timer." Robby finally broke the silence to crack-wise.
"I sure hope he doesn't slam into a snowbank going that fast." Samson said with concern on his voice.
"We'll all have a paw in fixing the gravel come springtime and I'm sure that Nick will be fine." Stu replied firmly.
"And, what about us? It's cold enough as it is to sleep inside the warren without a gorgeous doe to keep me warm." Robby wondered out loud, still chiding his father. He had no malice or discontent for the fox that had taken off, after all.
While his father already knew that, it was clear that he was going to pitch a baseball during an attempted softball game. "I wonder how it'll feel for you to sleep in the newly-minted guard tower, then." Stu commented.
Robby and Samson simply grinned at one another.
The rest of the walk back to the warren's entrance was done in silence. Stu watched as Robby collected Samson's shotgun before heading in towards the armory. Samson stripped down enough not to make any sort of mess while trudging through the kitchen. Neither of them stopped to attempt to make conversation with their on-looking siblings or their mother. That was his job to take care of and his two sons knew that much already.
The area was pierced by the sound of Marcy's wailing as she was held by Vera. One of his youngest daughters, Vera was standing alongside both Bonnie and Judy. The former looked that she was on the verge of blowing her top and the latter looked as if she was about to begin crying. Stewart did not understand why his most headstrong daughter looked that way. Concern, he could understand, but extreme sadness was something that he had not been expecting.
Stu quietly walked over and took his wife's paw into his while wrapping his opposite arm around his daughter so that he could remove them from all of the hustle and bustle of the kitchen area.
"Stu! What happened? Who left the warren?!" Bonnie said sharply, angrily even.
The buck remained stoic as he led them well into the main dining hall. He did not mutter a word of explanation until he sat the two does down on one of the plusher couches near toa fireplace. Once they were set, Stu hauled a chair over to the front of them and sat down. He immediately and silently clasped their paws together into his while staring into his wife's eyes. Only then did he speak in the softest of tones that he had ever spoken.
"Nick had to leave the warren for a bit, my loves." He said.
"Why?!" Judy shouted out incredulously.
It was truly then that Bonnie looked as if she was about to go ballistic, as well.
"I spoke to Gideon about how foxes took care of passed loved ones. After that, I did a lot of research into the subject. All after Nick's mother had died and after you two had gone back to Zootopia." Stu explained, keeping an even tone despite the fact that he was literally talking his way through a minefield. "He informed me that he had not been able to lay his parents to rest this afternoon. That… he couldn't do it in a place that was 'full of torment' for both of them when they had been alive. So, I asked him if he would lay them to rest at the tree out front – where he had initially gone to pay his respects after his mother's passing.
"I asked him if that seemed like a good enough spot to lay them laid to rest in."
The effect of the understanding was clear enough to both of the previously hostile does. His wife laid her head down against all of their paws and began to weep while Judy's tears streamed down her muzzle silently. They were, no doubt, worried about the journey that Nick would be undertaking; even though there really was nothing to worry about. The younger doe knew that he was an excellent driver: even with all of the snow on the ground and roads.
"I did not know that Nick had not buried his mother, nor did I know of the circumstances why, until now. But, Gideon explained enough to understand the circumstances to a degree. And, Nick indicated that it had been too long already…" Stu said firmly. "So, I told him to bring his parents' ashes here. It was clear, by what he said to me and by how he looked, that it was something that needed to be taken care of… Immediately."
"Is he safe, Stu?" Bonnie finally managed to ask.
Stewart leaned forward to bring both of their heads closer to him. Once they were resting close to his chest, he gave each of them a firm and loving kiss between the ears.
"He'll be alright, my loves. I promise." Stu said firmly. "Go get cleaned up. He'll want some food when he gets back. I have to take care of something."
Stu watched as the does wiped their tears and Bonnie immediately led Judy out and into the kitchens. Once they were gone, he pulled out the phone that was in his pocket. A quick message was tapped out to one of the family groups that held one of the specific skillset that he needed. The patriarch quickly found his way through the warren's halls until he made it to his office. Immediately, he pulled out a sketchpad and a pencil to begin work on a couple of designs while he waited.
There was a heavy thumping against his door and it opened, without waiting for any verbal admittance, so that five of Stu's largest sons could duck through the door frame and into the room. A ghost of a smile played up on his lips because he had never expected that some of his own bucks would grow up to be such monsters in overall size. All of them were heading into their last year of high-school and they were the defensive line for the Bunnyburrow Tunnelers. They were a rare group.
The patriarch certainly would have made the doors taller if he had originally known.
The leading four male kits, all born together, and all quadruplets of the W-litter. They had all stuck to one another like glue their entire lives and had gone into the exact same field of work for themselves. The fifth was a buck that was less than half their overall height and far lankier. He was another sole survivor of a nearly stillborn V-litter. Victor Hopps was as cool, as calm, and as collected as his four older brothers. He had been placed with his older brothers after the birth. He wore thin, rectangle-shaped glasses that reflected the hardness of the fifteen-year old's mindset regarding work. He had been a frequent target at school for bullies due to his smaller appearance, but the dedication that W-litter had shown to family kept him out of harm's way in going from middle- to high-school. Even if it had cost Stewart a lot of time in the principal's office, fighting for those four himself. It had been something that he could never abide by. Sympathizers of bullies. Victor was a smart kit and William, Walter, Wyatt, and Warren had ended up throwing away possible football careers to work with him. Victor had followed the closest in his father's pawprints: taking up design and architecture as his own field.
Stu could hear the memory of one of the school conferences as clear as he could see his sons in the room in front of him. The principal had been shouting about the fact that it had been the sixth time that the patriarch had been called in for "disruptive behavior" when William, all the then fifteen-years of the buck, stood up with his brothers and told the whole school administration to "go fuck themselves" within the science room. Told them, outright and on a phone call with the four other fathers, that the next kit that messed with their younger brother was going to end up hospitalized. Formally calling out each and every bully, that had been in the school, by name and giving the details of where they usually did their work within the school yard. When the team's coach stood up to tell them that they were going to end up throwing away their college scholarships, due to their physical behavior – it had started a brawl between the four bucks and seven others, Warren told one of his most respected icons – at the time – to "shove that money up his own ass". One of Stu's youngest sons got into the face, or as close to it as could have been possible due to the fact that his son had been half a foot taller than the older rabbit, that the "team meant everything" and that if they would stand with Team Hopps before they ever stood with an organization that favored placating incidents of bullying.
And, that meant that the Tunnelers, Bunnyburrow High, and the recruiters could go straight to Hell.
They were all suspended from school for two-weeks.
Bonnie had ended up hearing of the incident through the wives' grapevine within a day after the fact. Both sides, no less. She had been good friends with the wife of the vice principal, who had not said a word during the entire conference, and the matriarch remained headstrong throughout the entirety of the aftermath. Victor was not all that worse for the wear, but the entirety of W-litter had taken their fair share of licks whilst finishing the issue. And, those bucks wore their black and blue-hued fur and scars with pride.
Stu ended up making sure that they were taken to Gideon's for desserts, every single night of their suspension, for those two weeks as a reward.
There had not been another incident involving his kits at any of the schools since then.
"What's up, Dad?" Victor said, breaking the patriarch from his revere, once they were all lined up in front of his desk.
"Where are you all at with your current projects, boys?" Stu asked, still focused on writing out his plans. He had moved to a notepad so that all of the details could be written down.
"We're a couple of weeks behind schedule, but we can chock that up to the harvest and holidays, General." William explained firmly.
"I'm going to kick that buck's ass." Stu muttered under his breath, referring to his other son, Robby. His head was low enough to prevent the smile that had curled up from being seen.
"I have a time-sensitive job that needs to be handled... if you all are willing to forego your prior commits for another tick." He said, offering the paperwork to Victor from across the desk.
The smaller buck's reading skill was extremely high, and the young buck quickly turned the paperwork around to show his littermates. It took several minutes for them all to read it individually before handing the paperwork back to their defacto team-lead, so that they could begin quietly conversing about the project. That took several more minutes, but Stu was the epitome of patience in this regard.
"We have two questions and only one rule, Dad." Victor said after he turned back around.
"And, one caveat." Wyatt mentioned quickly.
"What's that, Son?" The patriarch asked simply.
"What deadline are you thinking of?" William inquired softly.
"By the twenty-seventh. I know that everybody will be busy around here for Christmas and all." Stu replied.
"Should we involve the crew from the wood-shop?" Warren asked after the fact.
"I'll leave that to all of your discretions." The patriarch said firmly.
Victor stepped forward while tucking the paperwork into the pocket of his stained and greasy set of overalls. The small buck did a bit of everything. He could cut wood into any shape that was called for, molded stone like it was mud, and he worked on all of the vehicles when he had the time to do so. He was whip-smart with math and English, and the young buck drew far more detailed plans for warren expansions' than the father had ever been able to teach himself.
"We're never to be named as being the ones behind this project, Dad." Victor said finally.
"I'll take care of whoever you bring aboard for it and see to it that nobody else says a thing." Stu replied formally. "And, the caveat?"
"Well, General. We would get right on this project, but a passel of us got Victor a date tonight." Wyatt began.
Walter stepped up next with a slight grin. "We'll make sure to get on top of it as soon as Victor's recovered from plowing the field, if you know what I mean." He finished without a hitch.
Stu laid his head in his paws while shaking it; listening to his bucks as they rambled on.
"Thanks, guys. He really needed to know that." Victor said in frustration.
"You know us, Vic. We do what we can." Wyatt drawled happily.
"Make sure to wear a jacket tonight, little brother." William said evenly.
When Stu looked back up, the eldest of the W-litter had grabbed his smaller brother and thrown him up to sit on his shoulder as the group began to file out of the room.
"Make sure you duck low enough to clear me through the doorway this time, you neanderthal." Victor said loudly, smacking his larger brother upside the ears with a paw. "Last time you weren't paying attention, you knocked me out!"
"We'll take care of it, General." William hollered back, ignoring his brother enough so that he could make sure that he did not actually smack his brother upside the top of the doorframe.
Stu sat back against the chair that he was in and grinned. "I'm glad they are my hooligans."
...
What more is there to say about how the sun sets; in whatever distance that is in your immediate area?
For Nick, it was about to plunge its way into the sea, off his right shoulder, as he hammered down over the Zootopia Sound Causeway. The truck was nearly out of fuel again and the needle was flickering in the red-limit with each bump of a section crossing. Each one of the pylons flared the directness of the sunlight around his form within the cab.
Two sides of the todd were fighting against one another for dominance at the forefront of his mental fortitude. Stu would have handled everything, with the does of the warren, but Nick had not been pleased with how he had left things with Judy. There was a focus on getting to the house so that he could gather the two urns that were being kept in a vanity cabinet within his closet. However, the todd could not shake the feeling that he had been far too harsh with his best friend during the past morning.
The logistical side of his mind was hoping that there would not be a lot of traffic going into the city itself. He did not want, nor need, to be sitting in traffic while wondering if his fuel reserves would make it through such a delay. The tone was set at the back of his mind while the other two disagreeing parties duked it out at the front.
He did his best to ignore it while taking the looped off-ramp into Sahara Square. His paw shifted back and forth with the roll of the steer-tires underneath the front of the square-body. The main thoroughfare was clear enough for him to speed past some of the slower traffic, in both of the lanes, while the heat of the region began to dry the truck with the wet, salted muck that was strewn across the entirety of the truck. Ten-minutes later, Nick rolled the rig into the driveway of the residence that he currently called home and he immediately shut the vehicle off, not even bothering to remove the keys from the ignition, so that he could leap out quickly.
The todd was polite enough to wave at Chaaya and Cleopatra while they were sitting on the next door's front porch. He still had not formally introduced himself to the leopard couple that lived next door, he remembered quickly. Even while he hustled across the lawn and attempted to shove the wrong key into the deadbolt slot. Once he regained himself enough, the proper key slid home and was harshly turned until the doorknob would take him past the restriction to the home. He carried two different sets usually. One for the house and all other things that required a lock and then the more streamlined set for his truck. Needless to say, Nick was not all that concerned about such an object as the truck: even if it was something that had been with him through a lot.
He immediately snagged one of the backpacks off of the hat-rack behind the closed front closed before stalking up the staircase slowly. The door to his room had been left open before the duo had left for Bunnyburrow. The sight slowed him even further as he pushed into the room carefully. The closet door, on the other paw, had been closed every single time that he had needed to take out a new uniform or shirt for whatever reason was called upon given the day. His pants and other undergarments had always been stored within the cabinet across the room from his bed.
A paw fell on the doorknob, twisting it a little before pulling it open, revealing that there was nothing but darkness within. Until, that is, Nick's paw swept against the switch against the outer wall of the closet. The small storage room was immediately illuminated by the dull, yellowed light that was in the socket above. With a shudder, the next thing that Nick's paws fell on was the cabinet that was situated below all of his hung shirts and he managed to pull each door open with the single paw.
To anybody else, who might have bared witness to the display, it probably would have looked like Nicholas Wilde was far more religious than he had ever really let on to.
"Anteeksi…" He whispered in Vulpish, taking a hold on his father's urn. "Minulla on paikka sinulle molemmille nyt."
It took several minutes for the todd to carefully remove the lids of both of the urns due to his shaking paws. Once that was completed, Nick carefully fit the two urns together with their male- and female-ends before slowly tilting the newly formed tube along the length so that he could mix the ashes of his parents together. After several gentle passes were made, he tipped his mother's urn completely into his father's while softly whispering prayers to them in both his native English and learned Vulpish. He waited another fifteen-minutes before daring to begin decoupling the two urns. The todd did not want to spill any of their current forms onto the floor, that was only a pawful of inches below the top of his father's urn. As soon as it was clear that everything had gone exactly as he had desired it to, Nick replaced the covers of the two urns before he placed his father's original urn within the backpack that he had brought upstairs.
"Lepäätte yhdessä ikuisesti Karman valon armoissa." Nick said under his breath.
The light was shut off and the door was shut deftly before Nick might have very well thrown himself out of the bedroom. The bag was slung over his shoulder all the while. As soon as he was down the stairwell, he turned towards the kitchen so that the fridge could be visited for a moment. The removal of a Tupperware unit was quick before he withdrew the last of the fish filets and plopped them down on his tongue. It was not much, but it would keep him from having to waste time at a fueling stop so that he could search around for sustenance. There was no helping the gentle hum of approval for the leftovers as he washed the rectangular plastic and placed it inside the dishwasher. That door was shut with a resounding smack before the todd began to jog out of the house, slamming the front door behind him and resetting the lock while still chewing on the fish.
Nick ignored the neighbors, even while they had to have been startled by the offending sound of the door, so that he could rush over to the cab of the truck. The passenger door came open instantly and the backpack was tenderly placed into the seat before the seatbelt was buckled over top of it. After that, Nick hooked the keys out of the ignition. That door also slammed as he climbed up into the bed of the truck, tossing his upper torso over the opposite side to unlock the fuel door and remove the cap on the tank.
Within the bed of the truck, placed against the back glass of the cab, was a large and unconnected, secondary diesel tank. It had a nozzle similar to one on a station pump. He withdrew it from the metal holster and shoved it into the main tank while setting the release. The todd slumped down into the bed after engaging the pump. He was immediately thrown back into the warring sides of his mind as he waited for the nozzle to fill the custom 38-gallon tank. It was fortunate that diesel was an extremely cheap commodity within Zootopia. He would not be paying nearly three-hundred dollars to refuel the backup storage tank as was the case in America.
You were too harsh on Judy this morning, Concern whispered quietly.
Bullshit, Frustration mixed in. You got after her for overstepping your bounds. She should not have attempted to interfere with your conduct.
Nick was able to flee the inner disagreement when the pump release snapped audibly. He quickly leapt into action, removing it, setting the cap and door before shutting off the pump, and replacing the nozzle in the holster on the body of the reserve tank. The window had been left down on the driver's side so the todd hooked the lip of the bed while using his forward momentum to swing around the cab of the truck and through it. The rush was because he knew that he was not going to feel much peace until the truck was back out, rolling on the road towards Bunnyburrow.
If he was being completely honest, it was one of the only places that he felt at ease being in. It might have been because the only love of his entire life was there. However, he was positive that it was a place that he was both welcomed in and belonged.
The todd shoved the ignition key rather harshly before whipping his head to both of the sides at the rear, checking the ends of the street and the T-intersection off to the left-rear before throwing the truck into reverse. On his way back down the driveway, Nick threw a loose salute to the neighbor couple. He was going so fast that the jolt of hitting the drainage slew, at the edge of the street, was rather harsh. Jolting because the acceleration, against the sharpness of the curb, ended up bouncing the rear tires on the shocks and springs. They did not seem to mind, waving at him in return, while the todd screeched the large truck to a halt, threw it into second gear, and peeled a complete 180-degree turn into the main intersection of the street. After it was roaring down the street, Nick reset the music through his integrated screen on his dash.
He was careful going around the corners of the lighted intersections, but still made it abundantly clear that if he had the green that he was coming through via the roar of the over-rev as he kept to a gear lower than what was technically called for against the RPM-range. That was what kept the pedestrians on the curbs as he made his way back to the causeway. The todd was not willing to use the hidden blue-lights and the siren to rush the situation any more than he already was. That would have upset quite a few mammals and it was not a method-of-travel that was aboveboard.
Fortunately, Nick had arrived so late on the Sunday that the vehicle traffic had thinned out as he crossed the causeway. He already knew of all of the spots where there would likely be a patrol vehicle set for speeding violators and also knew that the likelihood of such a patrol catching him not long after shift-change was remote. That meant he could pour on a bit more speed onto the pavement while in fifth-gear.
The truth of it was that Nick was wasting fuel by having the heat on and the windows down, but he wanted to keep the cab somewhat warm in the back while also cooling himself off. There was a 7-11 service station roughly six-miles off of the causeway, which also held the last red-light for Zootopia. He had fun with that one; having caught the red light while being the first on the line in the slow-lane. As soon as the light went green, the todd hit second, and then third-gear two-seconds after while ripping a ribbon of white smoke out from behind the Furd. There was a gentle mixture of black exhaust from the pipes below the tail of the truck. It had been cute that a Dodge Charger, in the left lane, had attempted to race him off the line. The todd only lost three car-lengths before regaining full traction in the rear of the rig and speeding past the commuter-class vehicle in sixth-gear. The part that saddened the todd was the challenger had decided not to attempt to take him on any further than what they had decided was enough.
Nick grinned a little. If all of the truth was laid bare, he had been cheating. Under the hood was an F350's engine and transmission in a rather deceptive F250 Extended package. The Charger could have outpaced him in the long run, but the driver did not seem to know where either the next light or the Highway Patrol's speed trap would be. So, the todd drove on, holding a steady 80-MPH while in a 70-zone. There was another sixty miles before he would see a small, incorporated area that held both a signal and the last station prior to reaching Bunnyburrow proper. If a highway patrol-mammal attempted to stop him, he would flash his rearward-facing, blue light-bar in the hopes of warding off a stop.
In the meantime, he was happy enough to listen to both the music that was blaring out of the speakers and the sound of the cold wind as it circulated through the open windows. The tone had shifted for the todd mentally. He was a little more at ease with the situations that had occurred now that he was finally taking his parents somewhere that he thought would be a place that they would have liked to be laid to rest at.
Nick ended up driving through several towns before hitting the hundred-twenty-five mile marker. He was halfway back to Bunnyburrow when he decided to top of the tank at the last fueling station before making it there. He would take care of refueling the storage unit himself. The last time he had let the fueling attendant do it, they spilled so much of it into the bed of the truck that he would not take the chance of a fire-risk again.
Hopping out of the cab, while he waited on the two attendants to fuel the truck, Nick stepped away from the vehicle so that he could watch the snows fall beyond the edge of the overhang. The flakes were lit up from the lighting of the parking lot and storefront against the dark background beyond. It was a steady snow, to say the least, and the decision was made to take it slower on the final leg of the journey.
"Here's your receipt, Mister Wilde. You're all set." A young buck approached and patted the todd on the shoulder to regain his attention.
Nick turned around and withdrew the slip of paper from the rabbit's paw.
"Thanks for stoppin' in with us and I wish you a safe trip." The buck chirped with a grin and a slight accent.
A polite nod was given before the junior attendant spun on his heel to push back towards the little fueling shack that he had. Nick noticed the other attendant was already in there after having stowed a ladder platform: they had used one so that they could reach the fuel tank. Nick smiled sheepishly at that. He had always been smitten with high-framed and fast vehicles. It made him feel a little bad for the bunnies. The place looked like a family-run business, after all.
"Hey, friend." Nick spoke up, watching as the buck turned back to look into the inquiry. "Do you all have anything hot to eat inside? I've still got a way to go."
"You like turkey dogs, Mister?" The buck said with a grin.
"That, I do." The todd replied with a smile of his own.
"Yeah… You look like a turkey dog-kind of fella." He said with a wide wave. "Ketchup or mustard?"
"Mustard."
"Well, now you're just a degenerate, Mister Wilde." The young buck said, causing them both to laugh together. "C'mon. Let's go see if Mama has something fixed up."
Nick pressed forward as the buck jogged inside to begin taking care of the order. The entryway bell chimed again as soon as he stepped through the door. Nick barely caught site of the shorter brown ears as they disappeared into the back room. There was an older buck sitting behind the counter, so Nick made his way over while removing his wallet from his pocket again. It was not until he reached the edge of the counter that he looked back up and found that the buck was staring right at him with his ears on high. It stopped the raising of his paw that was bringing the wallet up to unfold it.
"My son did say the name 'Wilde'… and, as sure as Serendipity's got sandals, he wasn't kiddin'. It really is you." The buck said with a soft smile beginning to play on his muzzle.
"Apologizes, Sir?" Nick said, rooted in confusion. "Have we met before?"
"Certainly not. We're just cut from the same cloth, is all. My name's Bernard Hendricks and I'd like to welcome you to the Hendricks Truck Stop." The older buck introduced himself and stuck a paw out.
Nick immediately swapped the wallet between paws so that he could shake the Bernard's paw firmly, though he was still confused. "Nicholas Wilde. You can call me Nick." He replied.
It was then that Nick became aware of the back wall, behind the buck, and everything clicked into place. Right in the center was a black flag with the white, emblazoned emblem of Jonesboro County in the center and it was laid over top of a horizontal blue stripe that ran end to end on the fabric. Neither of the two mammals released their paws from the introductory shake as the todd's emerald eyes roamed over the photographs and award plaques that were hung underneath the flag itself. And, eventually, those eyes fell back on the buck.
"Though, I figure that you were a part of a grander investigation than I had ever been in during my whole career." Bernard chuckled with squeezing the todd's paw a little more firmly. "There are a lot of mammals, in these parts, that have a lot to thank you for."
"It wasn't just me, Sir. And, that was before I wore a badge." The todd said awkwardly, finally being released from the buck's paw. "Who did you work for, if I may?"
"I was the Sheriff of Jonesboro County for thirty-years, like my daddy before me, and I retired just this past year." Bernard explained. "And, the semantics of your run don't much matter, Nick. You answered the call. I've seen a lot of what you and that little Bunnyburrow gal have done on the news. You oughta be proud of yourself. I know that your loved ones certainly are."
Nick looked down at the counter to find that he was scratching his index-claw against the glass while thinking about all of the pictures of his parents were sitting within his room. Most of them were sitting in a box with the photo albums, but there had been one that he had placed on his desk. He surely hoped that they were proud of where he was presently.
The swinging doors to the business's kitchen slammed open loudly from off to the todd's left. The images of his parents were still playing in his head while the memories of the dead red fox family were trying to shove their way somewhere in between all of them. They were probably two of the greatest incidents of failure that the todd could feel at any given moment and it was a heavy thing to shoulder.
"I have a favor to ask you, Nick." Bernard spoke again, bringing the todd's sightline back up. His down dropped a bit once it was clear they were about to be greeted. "Would it be alright if you, me, and my son all took a picture together? For the wall? He's a huge fan of you and Miss Hopps. And, it's not just because she's rather beautiful."
"You think he's going to follow in your pawprints?" Nick asked quietly, trying not to let a cheeky grin fall onto his lips due to the buck's comment. He failed.
"I leave that decision entirely to my boy." Bernard said with a big grin.
"It won't be a problem to take a picture with the two of you, Sir." Nick finalized. "I didn't catch his name, though."
"Josiah Hendricks." The father said proudly before being cut off.
"Mister Wilde! My mother seems to have left a while ago, so I made a turkey dog with mustard myself." The young buck called out, oblivious to the conversation that was being had.
Nick stepped back from the counter while noting that Bernard was coming around from behind it out of the corner of his eye. Josiah rushed over to offer him the turkey dog, all wrapped up in foil to keep it hot, while he had a huge grin on his muzzle. Once Bernard had cleared the counter, Nick immediately noticed a .41 Magnum S&W Model-57 revolver hanging off a gun belt on the older buck's right side. Again, the buck's gun-paw was offered, and Nick took it promptly this time. The todd immediately felt a thick cardstock between their two paws.
"If you ever need anything or want to change gears in your career. Make sure to give me a call." Bernard said firmly, watching as Nick looked down to find the faded business card for his previous post. The crest of the Jonesboro County Sheriff's Department still stood strong against the yellowing cardstock and the cell number was underlined in red ink.
Nick slipped a department card out of his wallet hurriedly and offered it to the buck in return. It had the line directly to his desk and his cellphone on it, as well. As soon as it was pocketed, Bernard grabbed his son and then the back of Nick's shirt to pull them all close enough for his right paw to lay an iCarrot out horizontally in front of them. As if they had all planned it together, the trio grinned with a wide happiness on each of their faces and a set of photos was taken. Josiah's was the goofiest one of all, of course. The todd could recognize the face of someone who had just met one of the most highly-considered icons in their whole life.
It made Nick a little prouder of where he had ultimately ended up in his own life.
"It was a pleasure to meet you, Nicholas." Bernard said, smiling as he looked down at the phone to take stock of the photos that had been captured.
"The pleasure's all mine, Sir. And, it was a pleasure to meet you, Josiah." Nick replied, finally taking the food from the younger buck, who was peering at the photos a bit himself. The clock on the wall, behind the two bucks, told him that it was pushing up on 10-o'clock. "I have to get going now, though."
Nick immediately tucked the turkey dog under his arm and opened his wallet to withdraw some money.
"It's on the house. Let Serendipity guide you, Son, and go with Karma, as well." Bernard said wholeheartedly.
The todd knew better than to make a challenge of the gift by taking in the look on the older buck's muzzle. There was no way that he would win that argument. The look told him that it was already paid for anyway. So, Nick shook both of their paws once more before heading to the door: pocketing his wallet all the while.
"And, Nick!" Bernard hollered before he could even make it. "Grab a Coke out of the cooler there. One of the glass ones. There's an opener right there next to the door."
Nicholas Wilde did as he was told and slid the cooler door closed before listening to the tinkle of the bottlecap as it fell into a metal bucket below the old-fashioned Coca-Cola bottle opener that had been drilled into the doorpost.
"Thank you, gentlemammals. And, you make sure to have a good night." Nick said.
"And, make sure to come back so you can tell me how the food was, Mister Wilde!" Josiah shouted.
He heard both of their well-wishes again as the jingle of the doorbell followed up a waving paw. Nick eventually jogged across the open air and snow to reach his truck, starting it up with attempting to keep all of the soda within the confines of the large glass bottle. Large, even for some of his own size. Nick, then, cranked on the ignition and pulled the truck out from near the pumps so that another vehicle could take the spot. It was late for the service station and all of the lights to the main building were beginning to be shut off. The todd could see Josiah and his helper beginning work on fueling what would likely be the last customer's car for the whole night. Some places in the Tri-Counties did not do 24/7 service due to the restrictions on an attendant being required to pump the customer's fuel themselves. It was a little different than Zootopia in these parts and that made Nick grin again.
In his mirror, Nick could see several flashing orange strobes pushing up the highway behind him. There was no oncoming traffic, so he did not bother to shut his headlights off. Fortunately, it was warm enough that the snow was turning into water on the roads instead of ice. As soon as the county's plow-truck passed, Nick pulled out across the oncoming lanes while catching a bit of a drift, due to his acceleration, so that he could pull up to within two-hundred yards of the plow and follow it into the night as far as it was going to go.
The todd was smiling fondly all the while.