Keslova Snow PT4 - Osteoporosis

In the small amounts of vision, Wolfard looked for clues of exit upon which he could build ideas of escape, even if all his pleas and warnings had cracked under the wind of deafness. The refreshment of food had been good upon his insides, a bit too much, and he could now soberly link threads of thought like the wrappings of neurons within the cosmic universe that was the mind of every sentient being.

Responsibility was the issue his tongue was seeking expression to, as he had let Flo lead them to where they were right now. If only he had been more assertive and had tried harder to give rationalization and proof of her fool's errand ways of going about… like everything. Yet, she was the most consistent person he knew, and trying to outsource her consistency with his was like a wheel-less race.

The fact alone infuriated him, as an inferior complex was being kneaded deeply down his panicked heart. She was like this from the start, yet this was not an excuse to look away from the behavior or crozzled apathy and disregard to his own opinion, as if it were powder from the ashes of something too dumb to be able to pass natural selection.

There she was, leaning against him in the tiny nibbles of what was another vegetable of deployed precision. How could he be mad at her… Her decisions and voice had saved them from getting engulfed in the flames of the city, in the aftermath of all this putrid conflict. Nevertheless, her mind was starting to lose its sharpness as she was hallucinating at the house just half a day ago, so he could concretely declare her lack of ability to undergo proper judgment for the survival of both of them and their future. If there was a moment in time when he could one last time try to talk to her, this was the best alignment of stars the sky could offer. No beating around the bush.

"Rose. This lack of comms as well as exhaustion has had a toll on both of us. I know you're trying your best…" Wolfard stopped for a moment to get any kind of confirmation from her, but as the nibbles were ongoing-still, he figured she was listening to his every word, what else would there to be done in this dark space of sausages and potatoes.

"I don't think you're in any shape to take decisions for what's best for us." Would it be an impassive stare, or logic that'd break his ability to retort? His mind planned for many angles of what could incur, yet nothing changed. Maybe it was acceptance? This gave him courage. "You've done a lot, but your mistakes will end us somewhere in a 10 meter hole." Why wasn't she reacting to him? Did acceptance so easily crawl under her coat and into her mind, at the snap of several words which he could've spread upon the snow at her initiation of the morning journey? There were no nibbles anymore tho, so the retort had to come any second now. Anyyy second now…

It took around a minute of patience, Wolfard's ears falling flat at the implications this had. He leaned his nocturnal eyes over the resting hare and noticed the closed lids of her tired face. Instead of desiring to wake her up and repeat all of what he had said, his shoulder was expertly angled, so that she faintly slid into his lap where he gave her snuggle with his paws. She needed this and there was no telling how long they even had, everything else would fit itself between the jigsaw pieces.

He didn't trust this Ann granny even a tiny hair-bit, since she was a greedy old hag who had just bartered with their lives for a meaningless ring. Even so, who would know if she wouldn't sell them out anyways, since she had gotten what she had wanted. Her punishment for collaboration wouldn't be something a puny ring could give them insurance against. Yes, Flo had lost her marbles. This wasn't a movie where every plan went flawlessly in the relentless chase of luck. The moment she'd wake up, he had to talk to her throughin and throughout.

But for now, everything could shift on the lowest gear on this off-road racetrack.

Time ticked and ticked in the music and shouts of joy above, while the dingy coldness walked in a crescent gait in Jim's exhausted eyes. The lack of electronics had turned his world in disorientation, and it would've been a good idea to get some analog equipment for this suicidal trip. Not only had they almost frozen to death, but they had to now endure fate's unknown.

The trapdoor of the basement suddenly opened, strange how his ears had not detected a single step, with a small beaver jumping down light's cease. Faint initials could be seen of the person, but Jim struck no motion, his heart trying to find a predatory rhythm of focus, while Flo had stirred in the sprung of her ears of vision. He knew it, Ann had sold them out, but why then was this short person here: unarmed and… uncertain?

"Mother… sheee… ughm," the beaver muttered, touching his solid tail, "stay until night. Safe."

"Okay, we can wait—" Jim tried to acknowledge, but Flo did it again.

"We're going right now. Nighttime, we'll be easily spotted. We'll pack our bags and are departing immediately."

"Wait, Fl—"

"There's nothing to argue, Jim. They're here, distracted. We let this go, we're never getting out." Jim's knuckles whitened in silent disobedience to her endless stream of swinging water ready to jump over the dam's walls.

"I'll, ughm… tell her," the beaver murmured in swiftness and exited through the narrow crack of the trapdoor. Again, they were alone.

"Flo, you're crushed. Your last calls were all mistakes. I want you to stop," Jim sharpened at her quickened new pace of getting her knapsack sealed and ready for the run. "Stop ignoring and listen to me for once!" Jim accidently raised his voice, Flo's actions freezing to her blindness, yet her ears visibly could pinpoint his spot. But, even as he had done this, she was still keeping quiet.

"Pack the food, we're moving."

"No."

"Wolfard," she lisped, the focus behind her glasses filling Jim in doubt lacking glory.

"Your calls don't count, not after putting us here in the middle of the day and trusting this old greedy witch with our lives. Not when you were hallucinating just like last night." The creaks of dust were the answer Jim only got, but it was more than enough for him to get the idea which brought his guts to a squirmish knot. "So you're just going to leave me? Is that what you're thinking, Rose?"

"Jim… Listen. You're right. I'm tired, but I know what I'm doing and it's the only way for us to survive. Starving to death at my aunt's house was not an option. This was and is the only way."

"In the middle of the town? At midday!? Do I have to repeat myself again and again before you realize how ridiculous this is? Just because you've hidden your registration plate doesn't mean you can't be caught."

"What?"

"Forget it… I don't want us to stay here. I know they'll have thermal trackers and this Ann thing is as trustworthy as a fo—" Jim managed to catch himself from blabbering prejudiced convictions. "But we mustn't do this now. See reason!"

"If this is your choice, Jim, I cannot do anything about it." Constriction of loneliness pierced his coat and fur like radiation-unseen to what the words carried without much attachment. Sure, this was who Flo was, but despite the traction of their history and experiences, she'd said she'd just leave him? Yes, it did sound like her, yet it still felt like manipulation-calculated for him to betray his own decisions and ideas. This was awful.

"You're manipulative and it's unfair."

"I'm only informing you. The facts ask of us to do all these dangerous decisions. You believe you know better, but I've explained to you how you're wrong."

"You've explained nothing, Rose!" Her head tilted aside, like if what he was saying was nothing but impure babble.

"Why are you so odd?" Her eyes stared in the darkness, and he couldn't come close to the understanding of what the hell she was on about with him, as if his behavior was out of this world. It wasn't his, it was hers! The floorboards creaked above, dust levitating freely.

"Don't dodge and explain!" The trapdoor opened and the voice of Ann ushered for them to move. Flo didn't even wait to give him an answer or a humble nod, just grabbed her knapsack and rushed to the ladder. Wolfard wanted to just stay there and keep to his stance, but then realized how this separation could lead to irreversible consequences. He couldn't emotionally drive her to conform, it was an impossible feat.

So he did the only thing left of options and followed with shiny teeth against the kitchen light. Up the creaky steps of the ladder, he noticed the panic in Ann's hoofs. Yea, no wonder.

"You're netting yourself, Rosie. Gut the day," Ann urged, and Jim somehow saw Flo's choice as the right one due to the lack of trust in the innkeeper's intentions. If Ann wanted for them to wait, then what would say she wasn't scheming how to accidently find them in the basement and call the bounty hunters? As expected, Flo didn't acknowledge the urges of caution, soldiering on with the heavy knapsack to the cover of the oven.

The scents of fish, bread and spices were calling upon Jim's filled stomach for further stuffing, and his stress was replaced with dreamy inconsistencies in the span of the trapdoor's thump. What now, what was the plan? The laughs and jeers of the hostile voices cut into the reflexes of Jim's curled tail. They were just behind the door, and the only barrier to them being caught was Ann's honor, which could be measured in the size of one worthless relic.

Was it going to be some kind of a sewer or a secret exit? Or maybe a secret tunnel leading out of the village, crafted by the ancestors' need to defend themselves from mountain foes. Ann creaked open another backdoor and they walked through a narrow corridor which was stacked with firewood on both sides, forming cliffs of splinters and exposed cores, scowling under the trivial flicker of vision. His boots crunched the sawdust in the disturbance of lung's annoyance. The hell was this place? Didn't they have a section where they could properly store the wood…

Ann hit her shoulder more than one time on elongated pieces, grunting and shoving them into discipline. Flo wasn't even turning around like Wolfard, which spoke to him her trust in this elderly greedy witch. How could you even put your faith in someone who could be bought?

They climbed down some blackened stairs, still riddled with the same firewood of prickle, and got to a large room of soot, next to which was this bulky furnace and boiler, which were emanating uncomfortable heat. Ann stopped just at the line of dirty coal and looked in disgruntlement at both refugees.

"Use the coal hatch. Stick to gardens. And get away from these gametes!" Flo crunched against the remains of extinction quickly up, as the pile gave height to what apparently looked like their only way out. Jim found curiosity in looking around the place of old, place of history, but his mind was nagged. "What you driftnetting about? Scram!" The slap of her hooves made him jump with claws at the ready, but she won the round of intimidation from her sheer size. Thanking her was on his mind, but not anymore.

As he clambered up the pigments of monochrome, he heard her ask, "What made the city burn?" Pft, as if he'd tell her anything, as if she were genuinely interested in knowing. The chance to do so was there in the basement of food, but all she wanted was a barter. She could go fish herself, yet Flo had stopped just at the hatch, visibly contemplating.

"Our osteoporosis," Flo said with blank eyes at Mother Ann's twitchy lack of understanding. Jim grabbed on the black bar keeping the hatch locked and flung it to the other side, not having the patience to stay in the trappers' d a second longer.

"What?" Since pushing normally didn't work, he bashed the steel with his shoulder, opening a sky of grey, a gust of ice and disturbance of snow's blanket. The snow which fell on his nose expunged a grunt from his heart, but he put his feet to the escape, stopping shortly after in register to Flo's lack of initiation.

"A disease that majorly affects the bones' density, resulting in easily susceptible fractures. Later stages can lead to broken ribs just from a cough. Prevention ca—"

"Rose!" Jim shouted at the temporarily blinded hare, reaching his paw for hers in a message too unsubtle to be missed. She adjusted her glasses and took the gesture, the door to the basement shutting soundly at stare's misinformation.

Mother Ann only rubbed her chin and sighed a simple, "Huh," while the winds of frost slowly covered the tracks of the two former Zootopians, relentlessly hunted for what they stood for, mingled randomly in the odds of a broken system.

Author's notes:

Hesitance jumps around your mind,

Grooms decision thus chosen blind.

Your thoughts most succulent of snack,

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So don't hide like a tiny shrew,

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