Carrot Farmers – Chapter 1
Written by Midnightopheliac
Here is the second story, contributed by the amazing Midnightopheliac! So go check out her stories! :D
"Come on Slick, it'll be fun!" Judy insisted, her grip on Nick's paw tightening.
"Carrots, I don't know about you, but I can remember snippets of last time. It wasn't fun. There was blood, lots of it, and gore, and death." Nick tried not to shudder as the wisps of their last shared dream floated to the forefront of his mind. The tod was okay with horror, enjoyed movies in the genre and had seen his fair share of gruesome scenes while hustling on the streets, but it wasn't exactly suitable for date night.
Judy could remember snippets of their dream too, but for her, it hadn't been so bad, and the memories were so weak that every time she tried to grasp them, sought to examine them more carefully, they fluttered away. "Well we were new to it, it was to be expected that we wouldn't pick the right thing." Her ears fell and she gave him a sheepish look. "Plus I was kind of mad about using our lunch like that so maybe that affected it?" Her ears rose again though as a new smile crept upon her face. "We can pick something different this time. Something more fun! Something..."
"Romantic?" Nick waggled his eyebrows, nudging the bunny by his side. The tod wasn't known for being overly romantic, didn't like huge, grand gestures of love, but he knew his bunny was a sap for all things mushy and cliché..
"Incorrigible fox," Judy teased, rolling her eyes. She knew Nick tried to be romantic for her sake, and she appreciated his efforts. He was always rewarded handsomely for going above and beyond for her.
"Beautiful bunny." Nick shot back without a seconds pause, admiring his doe and the pretty dress she'd put on as they walked down the street, holding paws.
Judy blushed at the compliment, ears flushing a light shade of pink as they drooped. They'd been heading out to the 10-7 for drinks, but Judy wasn't in the mood for overpriced beverages and a sticky, packed venue, even if it was one of their favorite places in the city besides the ZPD and their home. Taking matters into her own paws, Judy changed direction, pulling Nick down another street and towards Fitwick's Arcade.
It didn't take long for them to arrive, and the pair made their way straight towards the PIXAR machine. It was exactly as it was the last time they had visited, with two lounge chairs that reclined back, an assortment of buttons on the armrests and a mousepad on the right armrest. A couple of armadillo's were just leaving and no other mammal was in line.
"Seeing as how you want something romantic, you can pick this time, you big softy," Judy decided, sliding into the seat that she'd claimed as hers on their last visit.
"I'm an officer of the law, Carrots. I'm not a 'softy' as you put." Nick shook his head, the corner of his lips quirking up into a small smile. Gesturing to himself, he spoke. "Bad cop," he gestured to Judy, "Good cop."
"Shush you, get your fluffy butt in that seat." Judy pointed to the vacant spot next to her, excitement bubbling up inside of her at the plethora of possibilities they could live out this time around.
Unable to help himself, Nick smirked. "You like my fluffy butt."
"Nick," Judy warned. They were in public, and while she did indeed like his fluffy butt, it wasn't the place to hold such a conversation...until the curtains were drawn around them at least.
Suitably chastised, Nick took his seat, grinning. "Yes, dear." He pulled his wallet from his pocket, feeding the machine the required amount before he tucked his wallet away again.
Picking up one of the helmets Nick made quick work in placing it on Judy's head, flicking the visor down. "Hey! I can't see what you pick!" Judy protested, small lips tugging down into a frown.
"That's the point, it's a surprise." Nick stole a quick kiss, grateful the visor only covered her beautiful eyes and not her luscious lips. His bunny's frown was too adorable not to sneak a swift smooch. Grabbing his own helmet, Nick slid the device on, picking something from the list of experiences that he thought sounded suitably romantic before he flicked his visor down, settling back into the chair. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, visions of trees passing by, coming into view...
Running. He had to keep running. The city wasn't safe. Not anymore. Wheezing, his lungs burned, legs ached, and heart hurt. He couldn't stop. Daren't stop. He didn't know what day it was, what the time was, or even where he was. All he knew was that he had to keep going.
The sprawling city of Zootopia was far behind him, but the tod still didn't feel safe. The rolling countryside around him might be just as dangerous. He'd tried hitchhiking, had tried to flag down a few cars and trucks, but no one wanted to give a ride to a predator, let alone a fox. His hind paws hurt, the rough, loose stones of the country roads digging into his paw pads. He was hungry and cold, tired and heartbroken.
His city, the very city he'd been born in and grown up in, had turned on its predator population. The political coup that had seen Mayor Lionheart overthrown and replaced with Mayor Bellwether had been a devastating blow to the city's predators. Bellwether had struck fear into the hearts of the prey population, who outnumbered predators 10-1. It had culminated in the rounding up of predators and the forced wearing of shock collars.
Nick shuddered. His old friend, Finnick, had been one of the first predators forced to wear the abominations. They were made to keep predators from acting out of aggression and potentially hurting prey animals by delivering a shock when they were enraged or overly emotional. Bellwether had made it sound like a grand idea, like predators were uncivilized and unable to control themselves as well as their prey counterparts could, and did. It had won over the prey population, and the collars had been implemented immediately. Nick had been furious at first, had tried to protest the collars and force the Mayor to change her paw, but when they'd come after him, he'd had no choice but to run.
The Mayor's ram police force, more like her personal army, had stormed his family home on a lazy Sunday afternoon, and Nick and his mom had been forced to flee. They'd escaped through his bedroom window, climbing down the creaky, metal fire escape before running once their hind paws had hit the ground. The streets had been packed with prey mammals though, and in the chaos, he'd lost sight of his mom. With the ram's closing in, Nick had been left with no choice but to keep going, and with every step he'd taken since he'd beaten himself up about leaving his mom behind, abandoning her like a coward. He prayed every night that she was safe, that she'd managed to make it out of the city too. The rams had come for them with no warning, and they'd been forced to leave with only the clothes on their back. Nick had nothing to his name anymore, and he could never return to the city so long as Mayor Bellwether was in charge.
Focusing on the present, Nick knew he'd need to stop soon. His whole body ached and having gone days without food he could feel his energy sapping away. He'd never gone so long without a meal before. Though he was in his late twenties, he had lived at home with his mom, taking over the role as the male of the house after his father's untimely passing ten years ago. Though he hadn't paid too much attention at school, Nick had earned a job in one of the Nocturnal districts many factories, manufacturing furniture for the cities small to medium sized population. It hadn't been well paying, but he'd been good at it, and it had kept a roof over his and his mom's heads while ensuring there was food on the table. "What I'd give for some of mom's cooking right now."
As exhaustion crept up on him, Nick slowed his run to a jog, trying to conserve as much energy as possible. There was nothing but the open road ahead of him and lush green fields around with trees seemingly randomly dispersed throughout, but the dark clouds gathering in the sky were ominous and Nick needed to find shelter soon. In the distance, a sign came into view. It was shaped like a rabbit, painted bright yellow, and as Nick drew closer, he could make out the words on it. 'Welcome to Bunnyburrow, population: 081,435,805.' Nick gulped. Bunnyburrow was filled with rabbits...and rabbits weren't known to be accepting of his species.
Passing the sign, Nick continued down the road, remaining alert and on guard. He'd never come face to face with country mammals before, and the tod was confident they wouldn't take well to him. The sky darkened above him, and before Nick knew it, the heavens opened. Rain poured down, drenching the city fox in seconds. His clothes were saturated, sticking to his fur which was as equally wet. Miserable emerald eyes scanned his surroundings. Nick, shivering and his paws wrapped around him in a feeble attempt to stay warm, tried to find some shelter, and over in a nearby field, spotted a big red barn. Hopping over the fence, Nick was grateful for the soft soil beneath his hind paws and the brief respite from the rough road.
Weaving amongst the wheat in the field, Nick skittered in places as the soil soaked up the rain, turning to mud. By the time he made it to the barn, he was filthy, but as Nick pulled the barn door open and slipped into the dry space afforded by the barn, he could only feel grateful.
Shutting the door behind him, Nick sighed, leaning against the wood. The barn was dry, the perfect shelter from the rain. Taking a few steps inside, Nick glanced down at his clothes, realizing they were ruined. Stripping off, he hung them over a piece of wire which ran the width of the back of the barn, hoping the dry air would harden the mud and he could then brush it off. Left only in his wet underwear, Nick set about scouting his surroundings. The large space in front of the doors, where Nick currently stood, housed a tractor, the wall to his left was covered in farm tools and to his right was a storage room, a ladder next to it leading up to a mezzanine level. Nick stole a glance into the storage room, finding it full of hay bales. "That'll do." He grinned, picking up one of the bales. Carrying it out of the room he held onto it with one paw as he climbed the ladder up to the mezzanine level. Though he would be backing himself into a corner being so high up, Nick wanted to tuck himself away as much as possible, to hide his presence in the barn. The last thing he wanted was an angry farmer chasing him away.
Picking the corner of the split-level furthest away from the barn doors, Nick spread out the hay. It didn't take long before the fox collapsed in a heap on the dry material, nose wrinkling as he caught a whiff of himself. He smelt like death, most likely looked like it too. His stomach ached with hunger, and his body felt like it was on fire, but as his eyelids grew heavy and the sound of the rain filled his ears, Nick was powerless to stop himself from falling asleep.
As the sun rose, Stu woke. Having spent his whole life on the family farm, his body was perfectly tuned to the rising and setting of the sun, no matter the season. Stealing a glance to his left, he watched for a short while as his wife slept. She was so beautiful, and the buck often wondered how he'd been so lucky as to win the heart of such a magnificent mammal. She'd given him 276 kits, and as Stu stole a glance to his wife's belly, he didn't bother hiding his grin. "276 and counting."
Careful not to wake his love, for she needed as much sleep as possible while carrying his kits, Stu changed quickly into his outdoor clothes, pulling on his dungarees over his pants and shirt. Jamming his favorite carrot cap onto his head, the buck crept from the bedroom, ready to start his day.
After devouring a stack of toast, Stu scooped up the keys to his truck, making his way out to the vehicle parked at the back of the Hopps warren. Once he was seated comfortably, he put the keys in the ignition, starting the rickety old truck. Ready for the day's work, he headed in the direction of the barn to collect his tools. Today was the start of the harvest season, and Stu would need to put in countless hours and enlist the help of nearly all of his able-bodied kits to collect as many carrots as possible. Stu's suppliers had upped their quota for this year, and he would need every Hopps rabbit available to help him meet it.
As his truck came to a stop outside of the barn, Stu disembarked, leaving the keys in the sun visor. No one would steal from the Sheriff's father afterall. Whistling an old tune, Stu heaved the barn door aside, making his way indoors and towards his tools on the left wall. First, he picked up a shovel, which he put in the cab of the tractor, and then he picked up a pitchfork. Turning towards the buckets at the back of the barn, Stu caught sight of some clothes strung up over a wire. Abruptly, his whistling stopped, and the buck's paws tightened on the pitchfork. The clothes were masculine and far too large to belong to one of his sons. "Someone's in here." Stu crept around the back of the tractor, quickly checking the storeroom. He couldn't see anyone, but he noticed on of his hay bales were missing. There was only one other place the intruder could be, if indeed they were still present. I hope they aren't...
Keeping a firm grip on his pitchfork with one paw, Stu climbed the ladder up to the mezzanine level. Padless hind paws touched down on the wooden flooring, and the buck crept forward, both paws tightening on the pitchfork which he held in front of him, sharp points facing outwards. Taking a few more steps forward, he peered around the edge of some more hay bales, his heart racing.
There, in the corner of his barn, slept a semi-naked fox, curled up tight with his tail around him, reaching his snout. Shaking, Stu wished he had his taser on him. Foxes were the worst, and they caused trouble wherever they went. He needed the mammal out of his barn, but he didn't want to call his Sheriff daughter Judy to come and take care of it. Stu didn't want to risk her being hurt. Creeping forward, the buck kept his steps as light as possible, hoping to spook the fox and wallop him with the pitchfork before he could swipe at him with his big, sharp claws.
Still a safe distance away, Stu pushed the pitchfork forward, letting the sharp prongs poke against the sleeping fox. The buck watched with baited breath as the fox woke, emerald eyes appearing from behind the bushy tail. It took a moment, but those sleepy eyes soon widened in fear.
Nick had been enjoying his rest, pleased to finally have somewhere warm, dry, and reasonably comfortable to sleep. He'd been sleeping up trees since escaping the city, so having the opportunity to curl up into a ball had been a blessing. He'd been in the midst of a wonderful dream when he'd been rudely awoken, the digging of metal into his tail irritating and foreign to the tod. As he lazily blinked back sleep, his eyes finally focused on the source of the metal. Eyes widening in fear at the sight of the pitchfork and the farmer waving it at him, Nick skittered as far back into the corner of the barn as possible, lifting his paws to protect himself. His heart hammered; pulse racing as he tried to make himself as small as possible, to not end up skewered by the pitchfork.
"Who are you?" Stu demanded, sounding braver than he felt. The fox was seemingly afraid of him, and now that he could get a good look at him, Stu realized that he didn't know this fox. He looked nothing like any of the Grey family either, so he couldn't be related to Gideon. "Why are you in my barn? What do you want?" He took another step forward, pitchfork now shaking as Stu's nerves started to get the better of him.
Nick glanced between the pitchfork and the buck, swallowing. "N-Nicholas Wilde, Sir." He introduced himself, his tail swishing to cover his semi-naked body as much as possible. "I was running, trying to get away from Zootopia, and it started raining. I needed somewhere to sleep, and your barn was the first building I saw. I'm sorry Sir. I didn't mean to trespass. I'll go, and you'll never see me again." Nick pleaded, slowly creeping along the back wall of the barn as he tried to get closer to the railing. He'd happily jump the distance, snag his clothes, and run.
"Why are you running from the city, Nicholas?" Stu continued his questioning. The fox would have had to travel hundreds of miles to make it to Bunnyburrow and Stu questioned what was going on that would drive a mammal to flee such a distance.
"Collars, Sir. Mayor Bellwether is collaring all of us predators, like we're savages." Nick spat, unable to keep the venom out of his voice, the anger and hatred he felt towards the ewe indescribable. Nick's stomach chose that moment to growl, and the tod dropped his paws to his tummy, embarrassed by the noise and reminded once again of his hunger.
"When did you last eat?" Stu heard the fox's stomach grumble and he frowned. The tod looked gaunt, his fur straggly and unkempt, covered in mud. Stu had heard about the events in the city, but it was too far away to be much of an issue for the mammals of Bunnyburrow.
It took a moment for Nick to respond, the tod having to rack his brain for today's date. "I don't know Sir, I can't remember."
Though the fox looked filthy, Stu could see the strength in his frame, could tell that though it had been a while since he'd last eaten anything, he would probably have decent stamina. An idea struck the buck, and though he was sure it would come back to bite him on the butt later, he decided to strike a deal with Nicholas. An extra set of paws during harvest season would be extremely useful. "Now I ain't one to usually make deals with strange mammals, especially those who turn up unannounced and make themselves at home in my barn," he leveled his best scowl at the fox, one he had practiced on all his sons. It worked as the tod shrank into himself and Stu continued. "But it's harvest season, and I need as many sets of paws as possible. You look like a strong mammal, Nicholas, and there ain't anywhere else for you to go unless you want to end up in Podunk and let me tell you that place is the worst. So, in exchange for you working the fields for me and helping my family with the harvest, I'll give you food and lodgings."
Nick blinked, caught off guard by the bucks offer. He'd been pretty confident he was about to be chased out of the barn and threatened with the pitchfork again. The rabbit was right, though. Nick had nowhere else to go. At least if he took him up on his offer, he'd have food in his belly and a roof over his head. How hard could farm work be anyway? "Thank you, Sir. I appreciate your offer. It would be nice to not have to run anymore."
Stu nodded, pleased that the fox had accepted the deal. "Good, then this barn will be your lodgings from now on. I have a lot of kits, and I don't need you in the warren with them." He lay down the first rule, happy to see Nick nodding his agreement. The tod was grateful for anything at present, and sleeping in the barn was better than being exposed to the elements. He hadn't' expected the buck to allow him into the warren, as most mammals were still apprehensive about his species. "You can't work on an empty stomach, so I'll go and fetch some food for you. I'll see if I the Grey's have any spare clothes you could borrow for the time being too, they're the only other foxes in the district. You wait here, and I'll be right back." Stu backed away slowly, lowering his pitchfork ever so slightly. He descended the ladder, taking the tool with him as he headed towards the doors.
"Sir?" Nick watched the buck leave and called out to him as he approached the doors. Nick's paws were resting on the railing of the mezzanine level, his tail still wrapped around him to hide as much of his body as possible.
Hearing Nick calling out to him, Stu turned and looked up at him. "Yes?"
Nick licked his lips, the tip of his tail flicking with nerves. Though he would be working for his food and lodgings, Nick was still thankful for the buck's kindness. "Thank you. I want you to know that I appreciate your compassion and that I wouldn't dream of hurting your family, but I understand your apprehension. I'm grateful for you giving me a chance, though."
Stu felt his shoulders drop as his paws loosened on the pitchfork. The earnest expression on the tod's face and the sincerity in his tone made Stu feel momentarily bad for threatening him with one of his farming tools. "You old idiot. He's just a kit, a scared and lonely kit. Still, until I know more, I can't get let him get near my family. Maybe Judy might be able to run his name through the police database and tell me more." Deciding to leave the pitchfork, Stu let it rest against the wall of the barn next to the door. "You're welcome, Nicholas. Welcome to the Hopps Family Farm."
AN: So, give a shout out to Midnightopheliac for the amazing start to this story! And get ready for Part II!