Sorry for taking so long to write again. I'll try to update more often, promise J
. . .
Confrontation
The street stood still behind her; while each individual building was its own amazing artwork, with an occasional green sprout, tree or patch flowers decorating the place, she had long lost interest in them. Zootopia, the grand city where any mammal could be anything, had excited her for so many years. Too many times to count had she dreamt of doing some good here, and one day returning to Burrows to find a proud family. Ironic though, that now she was here in these streets she once wished to walk, she would do no good as a prisoner, and if she ever did come back to her family, she doubted her protective mother and father would let her from their sight again, unless perhaps they married her off, but then she'd have a husband who'd never let her from his sight.
Life is unfair, She almost sighed, but held it in.
Not letting her disappointment show, Judith held her chin up strong, hoping at least that would do some good. The fox, just silent as he'd been since the second he'd taken her, met her stare evenly. "I am lady Judith Hopps, oldest unbetrothed daughter of Lord Hopps of the Burrows, and you will answer me." She tried again. The more she said it—the more she asked questions and realized the tales about foxes being vicious were only tales—her voice lost its quake, and her fear slowly begun to shrink to a slight caution in the back of her mind. Perhaps when the tales said they were evil creatures, they merely meant this. She thought this fox was no more than bothersome.
Expecting nothing but that unbroken glare from those emerald eyes, she was slightly shaken when his lids dropped in what seemed like annoyance, now looking at her through narrow slits. She hoped the skin beneath her cheek fur didn't show a blush. "Well," she continued in a cool tone, composing herself, "why did you take me?" Her foot twitched and she folded her arms. The only thing that stopped her from stomping was the fact she sat against a haystack in the back of a carriage, using the little time she had to speak aloud, now that the ram who owned the cart was away somewhere taking a whizz.
He opened his mouth to speak, finally, but the clinking of hooves on the rough stone pavement brought both their ears to perk up. All the fox did was bring a finger to his lips to hush her and then his hood was over his face more than it had been before, his red muzzle falling under the cover of black shadows.
"Oi!" The ram stood behind her, his breath ruffling her ears, which then drooped in an instant. "I don't let mamm'ls ride my cart f' free!"
. . .
Just a stray road off the main way of the Zootopia Express, dim lanes starkly contrasted with the ever-blooming Burrows and its busy fields. Gloomy was the first word that popped into most mammal's minds when they looked upon this nameless village, most likely including those that might call it home. No one looked particularly happy either; shutters shut quickly when he passed and suspicion hung thickly in the air, but the inhabitants had no shame to hide their staring eyes through slots in doors and half-pulled curtains.
He tried to meet their eyes through the un-cleaned glass sometimes, but when they looked away, only his moving reflection stared back.
At least, some fair-furred rabbit's reflection did. He did not recognize himself.
Jakren's pale pelt was considered rare amongst the warmer greys and browns usually seen in Burrows, though he was not completely albino. He considered himself to have a sleek build rather than tough, and his height was by a hair above average, topped with finely pointed ears. His eyes, rather than the red that usually went with white fur, were solely blue, which was another feature that set him apart, even from the little true albinos around. But it was not that which made his mirroring persona in windows he passed seem peculiar. Not even the black dye he'd painted on in some parts was. This mammal, clothed in a dirtied white shirt and tedious grey stockings—that was not who he was. But it was who he'd have to be.
He stopped when he could no longer see his reflection and he realized he was before an inn, where an abnormally welcoming radiance shone out through the murky windows. Voices could be heard as well, creating the image that the town was not as dead as it looked at first sight; he just hoped he wouldn't regret his crazy idea coming here in the first place.
This was his first stop tonight and he hoped it would also be his last, for back at home he knew a warm stew and a worried Leire waited to welcome him, and he did not wish to delay that any longer than he had to.
At that thought, he entered.
Over his head lay a cloud of pipe-smoke, as thick and dark as the feeling of suspicion outside on the streets. Streams of it dissolved into the night air as the door slowly swayed shut behind him. Through that haze, candles' dancing flames glowed softly from stands on the walls, and a fire pit in the corner warmed the room enough to make the atmosphere appear at least a little more pleasant. Jakren moved to the smaller mammal's space that was occupied by mainly hares, rabbits and rats, and then leant on the inn's front counter, which was about the only place he was offered, the tables and benches all being taken.
On his right, a jill in a flimsy gown gave him a glance but continued to pull her ears and flatter her eyes at the innkeeper, and on his right a jack and a buck who had been chatting over something turned to give him a stony stare. The taller distant relative of his kind looked down at him with a look of authority he was only used to seeing on his father, but just as he was about to break out, he remembered here no one knew who he was, and no one cared, so his jaw snapped shut.
Jakren let the hare look him up and down with his contemplating dark eyes, but when the jack gave him a shove as if to test him, he returned a push. "What's a drunk lord like you doing in these parts? Ain't got no where else to be?"
Jack returned their glares hoping in some way it looked frightening, though suspected it didn't because their faces only scrunched up more, wicked smiles twisting on their mouths as if he were a court fool and they were being kept amused. "I'm looking for someone." Was all he said and hoped his authority was clear when he and offhandedly asked a passing servant to fetch him some wine, treating the hares like it was he, not them, in control of this conversation.
Apparently, that was humorous. Both hare and buck laughed, telling the servant to instead 'bring the lord some of the good stuff', seeing her off with a spanking to her bottom. Jakren was mildly horrified by the behavior, but before he could open his mouth the jack spoke.
"Looking for someone, eh, lordling?" he sneered. "Decided to get your hands dirty rather than sending a guard or some shit like that?"
Jakren's lips tightened. "I have my reasons." And he did, but he knew if he told them he was here because he felt like this task was his burden personally to carry, they'd only crack up more than they had at him asking for wine. What else would I drink? He mulled. Their weak ale?
"Well, if ya' looking for someone, there's gotta be at least one of your interest over there." The buck quipped, nodding to a table in the back corner of the room with his malicious grin winding to his ears. That far end of the room was lit by no more than a single clouded lantern, so he had to squint to see what the buck meant. When he saw, he felt blood rise up all the way to his ears, and his jaw went slack, completely startled. Oh, he saw what the buck meant now, but he wished he hadn't. He snapped his head away from the does and their gapingly low necklines, but their flirtatious smiles haunted him for a few seconds afterwards. Evidently, even the dirtied shirt and his dullest stockings still showed he had money. He felt guilty, though he had done nothing. My deepest apologies, Leire. I didn't choose what I had to see.
"A nice jest," Jakren said flatly, only now realizing he might regret this insane idea of his. "But I'm looking for someone who knows their mammals. You know? Someone I can use to perhaps, lets say, track someone down."
"Ah, so the lord's getting up to some crooked work, eh?" The jack snickered, but finally something about the smirk on his face, deceiving as it was, told him it was no longer at him, but with him. "Look, I'm not your hare, but him, there." Jakren followed the hare's yellow-clawed finger to a table beside the does'. "He got what you need."
. . .
"What do you need, lordling?" The mammal the hare had pointed to was a rat, Merek. Even sitting at the same table as the rodent, his jet-black fur made it difficult to tell him apart from the shadows around them. The fact his robe was black did not help either, only adding to the confusion. Only the chains and trinkets hanging from his neck and wrists glistened in the little firelight, as well as two beady eyes that reflected the candles flickering flame, making them seem always eerily observing.
Before Jakren, a brass cup of 'the good shit' the hare had told the servant to get him sat untouched. It was awful stuff, which made his face twist in horror with even the smallest sip. He had no clue what it was, but it lacked any spices or just enjoyable flavor in general. He looked away from the table to equal the Merek's gaze. "I need someone who can track any mammal in the whole of Zootopia. The jack over there. He told me you're the one to ask."
"Ay." The rat nodded, flashing rotten teeth in a slack smile. He gulped his drink down without making a face, and Jakren wondered how he did it. "I know some people. One in particular. Assassinating, delivering a message, tracking, she does it all. She comes and goes of course, but I believe she's back here for a while, and from personal experience and other's, she's the best there is."
"Really?" he leant forward, resting his elbows on the rugged wooden table. It was all too good to believe. Perhaps this inane idea of his wasn't that mad after all. "And where can I find her?"
Merek let out a crackling laugh. "You think it's so easy? My help don't come without coins. I need to make a living too, got it?" Looking at the jewels around the rat's neck, he knew about how much he'd have to give.
"I understand," Jakren said coolly, pulling out a pouch he expected he'd have to take out eventually to bribe. It chinked when it hit the table. "Do we have a deal, friend?"
Without even giving the coins a check, Jakren knew that Merek knew that those coins were more than just silvers. "Ay. We do." Licking his lips, the rat held out a rubbery paw. "Tomorrow, around here, round' this time. I'll take you to see her, lordling—"
"Jak." Jakren battered hastily, then turned that into a grin; cunning, like the one the hare had worn talking to him. "You will call me Jak." He reached out and grasped Merek's paw, confirming their agreement.
. . .
"I'm not looking for any trouble either, sir." Nikolas held his head bowed in false deepest sincerity. His muzzle was well and safely sheltered beneath the cloak hood, and his ears flat against his head, he just hoped the ram did not question whom—or more importantly, what—he was.
Behind him, the lady Judith stood timidly but poised, thankfully letting him lead the conversation. Nikolas knew how to deal with mammals, manipulate them to get his will if he needed, but by the way the doe had acted towards him, she seemed, as adorable as she was, quite naïve and extremely capable of getting them into some jeopardy if she opened her muzzle. One time she was afraid, the next curious, then she became a blaze of fluffy fury, demanding he answer her as if she were commanding a servant in her rich household. The ram would not respond so well to her as he had.
"Then you wouldn't of stepped foot near my cart." Looking up from beneath the hood, Nikolas saw the large mammal's muzzle crumple in anger. "I do not know, nor care, how long you have been riding in my hay, but you do owe me. You're lucky I'm not forcing you to pay the worth of the straw you damaged!"
"Look, sir," He pushed the accusing hoof away from pointing at his face with a gloved paw. "We are but poor mammals, looking for a place in Zootopia. We truly meant no harm." He flashed Judith behind him a glance, meeting her lavender-colored eyes firmly. Looking like she was about to protest against the fibs he was telling, he hoped with all he had she wouldn't accuse him as a criminal or something like that, and she snapped her jaw shut, bowing her head with a furrowed brow. Turning back to the ram, he continued. "If I had a single last coin, I'd give it to you, that's the truth. But I'm afraid I don't. If you would be so kind, we will leave you and your hay behind, and be on our way."
With a relieved sigh, when he jumped onto the stone pavement and started walking away, he turned back to see the ram only staring. That was the end of that problem. The next problem followed his lead and jumped from the cart, giving the ram an apology before dashing after him.
She stopped before him, pouting angrily with her hind paw hammering the ground irritably. "Again, I am Judith of the Hopps family," She said her name as if it would give her more authority. In truth, it was supposed to give her more authority, being born from one of twelve realm-ruling families, but then again, he was not supposed to exist. He was an exception. "And you will answer my questions."
. . .
…And from now on you will see more of Nick and Judy how nick and Judy should be.
thank all of you so much for reading so far!
