I do not own Zootopia, that belongs to Disney. This a fan work made solely for the sake of amusement.
Interspecies Relationship Support Network- Tri-Burrow Chapter
Chapter Seven: On The Trail
By: Gabriel LaVedier
The next morning, very early, the main Sheriff station was active, at least in the sense someone was in there. Buck was blearily punching buttons on the well-preserved coffee maker, setting the water to steaming and filling the place with the warm scent of a strong brew.
Buck prepared himself a high-walled mug with the logo of Weaselton's Wares on the side. Coffee, Dreyson pecan milk and a heaping spoon of sugar. He sipped from it and shook in a little extra sugar, finally liking what he tasted. He made his way back to his desk and started digging in the mess for anything to nibble on.
"I thought mammals only went forging when they went on Ranger Scout trips," Beatrix said with a chuckle in her voice.
"This was a surprise, I'm never the first one here in the morning, and I'm earlier than usual even," Buck noted, preparing the sheriff's coffee in her usual mug, which had the face of a black-and-white cartoon wolf in a classical early-inkblot style.
"I'm always up and around early. But you know who else starts early? Bakers," Beatrix laughed, holding up a box from Gideon's bakery. "And I laid into you pretty good to come in early so I knew you'd be here without breakfast. Gideon had fescue today, so I got you a filled pancake and another timothy tart."
"Ahh, much obliged, Sheriff," Buck said, going over and leaving off the coffee, taking the pastry she offered in exchange. He went back to his desk, sitting and eating rather quietly, taking his time with the food and his coffee.
Beatrix stood by her desk, sipping her coffee and seeming to be waiting. Buck was going to ask about food when the station door opened up and a cheerful male voice called out, "Breakfast for Bea is served! Here you are, kultaseni, fresh from my oven to you." Through the gate into the back area of the station walked a wolf, with a puffy, almost curly, strawberry blonde coat. He was small, thin, looking gangly and weak, with delicate features. He was wearing jeans and a plain blue tee, with an apron that looked like it was growing soft moss. In one hand he carried a basket of muffins.
Beatrix laughed softly as she approached the wolf, who stood a head smaller than her, and kissed him softly on the forehead. "Prompt as ever, rakastettu. I never want for anything when you're here. It's why I almost never have to have my own breakfast." She took up one of the muffins and took a big bite. "Mmm, delicious. Lingonberry, mint, cricket... you got a citron? Where did you get a citron?"
"Oh I cheated a little. I prefer to give you fresh things but I used some jarred citron syrup, and Mr. Ovine gave me some candied citron peels. He buys them in bulk and was kind enough to let me have a little to sprinkle in," the wolf said with a bright smile. "I know that Seedcache orchards in Squirrelburrow has a small citron grove but Mr. Seedcache isn't a friendly fellow."
"We're going there today. I'll get him to sell me a few just for you," Beatrix said, planting another kiss on the wolf's forehead.
"Uh... sheriff..?" Buck finally spoke up, rising from behind his desk. "I... uh... I didn't know you were a chomper-romper."
"Deputy, you get exactly one of those before I kick your tiny tail into the next county," Beatrix warned, with a snort concluding her words.
"Sorry! Sorry... Outsider; I think that's the word those fancy Zootopians like to say. Who is this? I mean, he looks familiar but I don't know him."
Beatrix sighed. "I should have known this would happen. He comes in way before you come in to bring me breakfast. Deputy, this is Rimpssie Specsson, he's from out by the border to Predburrow, where my family lives. There's a little Nortic community there where the immigrants settled. His family is from where mine is."
"I have... just so many questions. Why aren't you part of the Network? It seems like, well..."
"We're being quiet about it, because I'm elected, and the voters can be fickle," Beatrix responded.
"I've told only a few, who can keep a secret, like the Ovines," Rimpssie added.
"And while support is good, all I need is him. And our families. Both our families give us all the support we could possibly need," Beatrix concluded.
"Really? You mean... both of them? But... you're Outsiders. Families usually take some time to be okay with that, or they're just unusual like the Dreysons and the Hoppses."
"It's complicated. It's less about the species and more about the strength..." Beatrix considered things carefully. "In our community the husband and wife should complement each other. Where one is weak, the other must be strong to form a full and complete household. They have to support one another however they can. Rimpssie's parents lamented him actually finding a wife because most wolves demand strength and forwardness from a male. When they found out I was interested they threw dowry at my family in the form of heirlooms and tribute ballads. His father is something of a skald and thought it would encourage me to keep seeing him. As if I need it."
"They like to say Jos olet skræling, naida Valkyrie in the packs. It's... it's not very kind in a broader sense but they mean so well when they say it it's kind of oddly charming. They really do want the best for me. In their estimation I need a strong doe because I'm not a very forceful wolf. That's fine. Beatrix is that," Rimpssie said, ears folding as they went pink.
"If we weren't suited to each other it might be a problem but we started dating first, then they got involved. It's a lot of fuss but it's fine," Beatrix said, digging in the basket and pulling out something that resembled a yellowish slice of brain. "Aww, you want me to have this too? Are you sure?"
Buck spilled his coffee as he shot up from his chair, staring wide-eyed at the thing. "Okay! Okay! You're eating bugs, I get it it. Weird. But that's a brain! Where did you get a brain?"
Beatrix shook her head slowly. "Deputy, you may be too high-and-mighty and fancy to eat bug but you know well that cervids do it. Can't get grass without bugs. And we can eat fish too, it's just less common. Some of us still enjoy getting protein from something besides beans and nuts. And as for this... it is a brain. A tree brain! It's called a sulfur shelf, it grows on rotting trees and when picked at the right time and cooked it's slightly lemony and delicious. Rimpssie has the delicate and careful touch required to tend and grow them, because these are difficult to grow intentionally."
Buck sopped up the slight coffee spill and huffed at the slight laughter at his expense. "I don't eat fungi, not that kind. I wouldn't know. He's a predator. It could have been a giant fish brain. Fish... oh, that explain what Weaselton said. Protein powder and fish. Buying him food."
"It's part of the courtship process," Beatrix said with a roll of her eyes. "It's silly and overly traditional but it's a thing, even though both families want this to happen. As the stronger one, I have to perform a certain number of provider actions, bringing meat and other food of a certain amount. Some weekends I fish but I usually just go to Weaselton's to get some cans. I guess it's charming from a certain perspective."
"Guess I can see why you rode me so hard over the things I said while I was sleep deprived and snippy," Buck said.
"No, I did it because we have a job, a job I take very seriously. We have a duty to the citizens of the Tri-Burrows, and that duty may as well be a sacred oath to the sun and earth. That I happen to agree with those folks is secondary. It's our job and we need to do it to the best of our abilities," Beatrix said, sternly.
"I know, I know..." Buck grumbled, going over to the coffee pot for a top-off.
"We're going to be very busy today," Beatrix said, kissing Rimpssie on the lips and giving him a squeeze that lifted his paws off the ground. "We need to head out to see that nasty Mr. Seedcache. I'll come back with some citrons for you, I promise."
Rimpssie's tail went wild, wagging rapidly as he hugged against Beatrix. "Thank you, kultaseni! Don't forget we have dinner with my family tonight. Some of my other relatives are coming to see you. They don't think a strong woman wants to marry me. Will you be kind to them? They only want the best for me."
"Oh they're so blunt and ridiculous. But they're going to be my family, too. I guess I can be nice," Beatrix said with a grin, giving Rimpssie another kiss on the lips before setting him back down. "I'll see you tonight, rakastettu."
"Want some time for your muffins or should we go?" Buck asked, finishing off his own pastry and some of his new cup of coffee.
"Might go faster if you helped. My Rimpssie is a cook close to on par to Gideon Ovine. Nothing against you, rakastettu. He's just a professional."
Buck pulled a disgusted face and waved the offer off. "I'll stick to the fescue, thanks."
Beatrix shook her head and bit into another muffin, passing one to Rimpssie, who chowed down eagerly, taking a sip from Breatrix's mug. "Fancy roe..."
o o o
"I'm not going to deputize your sons to go out and beat other mammals!" Later that morning, at the Dreyson tree-stand manor, Beatrix and Buck were standing at the base, calling up to the heavyset form of Big Daddy Dreyson at his usual relaxing patio at the front of the house.
"Gotta get results, Sheriff! My family is under attack and we need answers!" Big Daddy cried back.
"A lot of families were under attack! Should the Sheriff deputize the Ovines and the Catmulls and the O'Pogos? What about the Martens? Do you want that muscle-mouse Martin Marten with legal power and a license to beat anyone that he likes?" Buck yelled up.
"If it helps!" Big Daddy loudly replied.
"Ebeneezer Russell Dreyson! Hush up now!" A loud, shrill voice called from the interior of the manor. "Stop bothering the Sheriff and let her do her job!"
Big Daddy winced and slumped his shoulders. "Yes, Lucille... sorry, Sheriff. But I want this matter resolved."
"And we want it resolved as well, that's why we need to talk to Travis, Ermintrude, Jules and Will. They might know more than they realize," Beatrix explained.
"And don't forget Peony. She's still here," Big Daddy noted.
"Peony Seedcache? We have to go see Mr. Seedcache because her name was on the list. Why is she still here?" Beatrix asked, taking out her pad and pencil.
"Oh she's just not eager to get home. I told her daddy that she was over here doing girly things with Ermintrude. He wasn't very happy about that but he just accepted it. He just wants a child to have a child, I suppose. He's such a mean mammal," Lucille called, poking her head out of a window. She was another fox squirrel, much lighter in coat color than her husband, but with the mix of softness and musculature that showed her daughter strongly took after her.
"That's what I keep hearing," Beatrix said. "Are they all in today?"
"Well, Ermintrude went off with Travis, he's back in the office. Jules is out in the orchards, he likes to work things out physically, little like Mr. Marten. But Will and Peony are here. Lucille, can ya get 'em fer the Sheriff, please?"
"Happy to, nectar-drop," Lucille sweetly replied, vanishing from the window and scurrying off into the interconnected network of built-up trees.
A short time later the front doors opened letting out Will, in a white undershirt and jeans, and Peony Seedcache. She was a lovely chipmunk with golden-toned fur, like a lighter and more glossy version of Jenny Thicket's honey-fawn coat color. Her cream front and dorsal stripes of charcoal and ivory were largely hidden away by a simple aqua blouse with puffed sleeves and a pleated seafoam skirt that went to her knees.
"Mr. Dreyson, Miss Seedcache, I need to ask questions about what happened the other night, if you feel alright about telling me," Beatrix said.
"I think we're alright. I guess I was just lingering with Peony because I could," Will admitted.
"And I didn't really want to go home..." Peony began saying.
"It's not that interesting out there. Not all Burrows are created equal," Will finished.
"Right! It's way more interesting out here. Plus... I have Will," Peony cooed, nuzzling up along the side of Will's face, having to stretch to do it, given the physical difference between a chipmunk and a fox squirrel.
"Did you two happen to notice anything unusual that night? Smell anything or see anything or even hear anything?" Buck asked.
"I was distracted, rushing Peony to safety and seeing that my sister and brothers got out," Will noted.
"I was super scared but there was something familiar cutting through the smoke. I don't know what, but it was really sharp, made me sick a little bit. Like paint stripper or nail polish remover. I don't wear nail polish because getting rid of it can make me throw up really easily," Peony answered.
Buck and Beatrix shared a glance and nodded. Beatrix said, "Well, we were heading out to your home to ask about anything like that, but now we can give you a ride. I think it's time you went home. We can talk to your father about the Network, ask him..."
"No!" Peony squeaked, clapping her paws over her mouth and looking guilty, ear interiors burning red. "I don't think he needs to know about that. He has enough problems running the orchards on his own. He doesn't need more stress."
"Well now... then we'll ask more general questions, because like it or not it was a major matter. Plus I need to see him about some fruit."
"Do you think you can manage?" Will asked.
"I'll be fine, Will. I'm his daughter. He'll get snippy and huffy but he won't do anything else," Peony said, reaching up to kiss Will on the cheek.
"Okay..." Will whispered, his voice giving a soft quiver, while his tail puffed just a touch. "I'll see you later. Call Ermintrude and we can talk."
They led her along to their Pride Simoom and settled her into the back seat. "Sorry about the bars, but, you know, standard modifications on a cop car," Buck apologized.
"I understand. The lack of seat belts is more of a concern..." Peony said, settling in as best as she could in the big backseat.
"Another consequence of a law enforcement vehicle. Can't have too many things back there that a criminal can use. We don't design these things, just use them, and we're lucky to have this," Beatrix noted, setting off town the road toward Squirrelburrow.
"Just... how mean is mean?" Buck whispered across to Beatrix.
"You know old tod Grey? Drunk, angry, nearly ruined the nicest baker we ever had in the Tri-Burrows? He's mean. But he's open about it, so in a sense, he's not cruel. You know what he's about. But I get the impression, just the idea mind you, that Seedcache is the kind to be frosty but approachable, make you work and work for respect that he doesn't give. He's cold and greedy, and fake as a three buck bill," Beatrix whispered back.
"Fake... that's one strong word," Buck muttered. "Never seen a mammal that was fake like that."
"They're more city things, really dishonest for the sake of their own ego and pockets. Now that's mean," Beatrix whispered back, looking at Peony in the rear view mirror. "Poor pup. She didn't do anything wrong. She's just worried that her father won't approve of being in a group that he doesn't like. He must rule her life completely."
"I'm surprised we've got something like that and I never knew," Buck said softly.
"Sometimes we don't want to see. It's sad but true. Don't get blindsided, or else, you know. Slashy-Smiley killer. Just keep your ears up and eyes open. This might be an important stop."
It didn't take all that long to reach the destination, the Dreyson property being somewhat near the border to Squirrelburrow, while the main homestead of the Seedcache family was near the border in a similar way. They passed the well-ordered rows of trees until they made the turn into the front drive, approaching a tree manor similar to the Dreysons' but smaller and with less impressive trees.
When the car came to a stop the front door opened up and a maid emerged. She was a very, very small woman, another cervine, though one of a form that was unusual to the two. She was a basic brown color, light in hue with a very velvety look to the coat. She was dressed in a typical maid outfit, a black-and-white dress that fell to her ankles, with a lace hat perched between her ears. The one thing that was most surprising was from the side of her mouth protruded two very prominent, pearly white fangs.
"Kyaosopartaal, Officers," the doe said with a strong accent, bowing deeply to them. "Thank you for bringing Daw Peony. Hrang Seedcache has been very worried about her."
Both the officers looked on in some confusion, though Buck quite openly looked at her prominent fangs. "They're very good law enforcers. They saw I needed a ride and offered," Peony said, smiling at the doe. "Oh, Sheriff, Deputy, this is our new maid. Dad hired her in Zootopia because her size was perfect for the manor."
The maid smiled up at the two. "Ma Hayma Arwat Sanda. Ah, Miss Hayma Arwat Sanda. I carry a family line with me. Hayma is my grandmother and Sanda is my mother. We all live in Vineland in Zootopia. This is a very new experience for me."
Buck smoothly stepped forward and smiled. "Deputy Roeberts, ma'am, Buck Roeberts. I must say, you're very unique. I love that accent and your... your tusks are interesting. Excuse my indelicacy but are you... part something?"
Hayma laughed softly, shaking her head. "No, no Deputy. This is all me. I am what is called a leaf muntjac, the smallest of the muntjac kind."
"And it looks very good on you, ma'am," Buck said with a wide smile.
Beatrix lightly nudged Buck and chuckled. "At least you're focused on someone appropriate. Miss Sanda we need to speak with your employer about a matter that transpired in Bunnyburrow a few nights ago."
"I heard," said a cold, stentorian voice from inside the manor. Following it came another chipmunk, a tall, thin, grave-looking fellow with dull fur. He had on gold-rimmed glasses and a gray tweed suit. "A burning barn full of folk that would be better off doing more proper activities. There are more refined pastimes."
"That's hardly your place to say, Mr. Seedcache. This is an active investigation of an unforgivable act," Beatrix said, firmly.
Mr. Seedcache snorted and waved a paw. "Thank you for returning my daughter. I'm not very happy about her choosing to spend so much time with that Ermintrude Dreyson but at least she's interested in maintaining the prominence of the family. Such a large and powerful family is important. Imperfect, but important. Making connections is vital."
"Right. Well, that imperfect family has had a most unfortunate tragedy," Beatrix firmly said.
"No one dead or injured. Your definitions are curious indeed, sheriff. Aren't you allocating too much in the way of resources to a harmless accident? I mean, your dedication is admirable but the voters might well ask questions about how you apportion your time and focus," Mr. Seedcache said, smoothly, coolly and evenly.
"Right, mean..." Buck whispered to Beatrix.
"Daddy, the sheriff was very nice, she brought me home rather than having me walk the whole way," Peony said, strolling up to her father and giving him a hug, which was not immediately returned.
"Yes... I suppose that was very kind. It's near midday. Please, let's have some lunch. It's the least I can do."
"That's the truth," Buck mumbled.
"Normally I'd turn that down but I would like to ask some things and it seems harmless enough," Beatrix said, following along as everyone moved to walk around to the back of the tree manor.
A long table had been set up outside, sized for guests that were much above the size of the Seedcaches. It was quickly laid out for all those present, including elaborate and expensive-looking boosters and elevated place settings for Peony and her father.
Mr. Seedcache clapped his paws and snapped his fingers. "My new servant prepares food suited for her own kind from her culture. No disrespect but I keep no other kinds of food in my home besides my own produce or similar things. Why enrich anyone else unless I have to? Hayma, bring the fruit and nut salad for myself and Peony. Would you care for the same, sheriff? It's far more... proper."
"I think I'll try something new. It's not a big deal for me," Beatrix said, staring directly into Mr. Seedcache's eyes.
"O-oh yeah! I'm sure I'll love anything you can bring," Buck said with a huge smile on his snout.
"Hutkai, hrang," Hayma said with a low bow. "Excuse the time taken, kya ma prefers to cook from fresh." She bounded away swiftly, into the manor.
"She speaks quite nicely," Buck sighed, supporting his head on his fists and watching where she went.
"Manners are quite... flexible in the Burrows I suppose," Mr. Seedcache said, obliquely.
Beatrix cleared her throat softly and pointed to Buck's elbows. He slipped a bit and quickly pulled his arms back to his side.
Some time just after noon Hayma emerged from the manor, pushing a large food trolley. She served Mr. Seedcache first, setting down a plate of shelled walnuts and acorns, and peeled and sectioned tangerines. Peony received a similar plate, though her tangerines were replaced with oranges and pomegranate arils. Before both Beatrix and Buck she set down plates filled with noodles, mixed with some kind of sauce and a mish-mash of vegetables and some unknown elements. She also settled down bowls of rice by their plates. Everyone was given glasses of water, and she bowed to them. "I hope you enjoy."
"She can play a... some kind of harp thing. What is it?" Mr. Seedcache asked.
"Kya ma plays the saung, hrang. Would it be welcome for the delight of these guests?" Hayma asked.
"Now, now, Miss Hayma, that's not fair to you. I can see you didn't set a place for yourself. I'd be an unmannerly mammal if I didn't offer you a place by my side and ask you to share off my plate. It seems like a lot and you can tell me all about it," Buck insisted, standing up awkwardly and pulling a vacant chair right beside his own, held out for her.
"O-Oh, thank you, Deputy," Hayma said, ears swiveling down as the insides darkened. She demurely stepped forward and settled down onto the chair, turning her head aside shyly as he pushed the chair in and sat down himself.
"Your Deputy is a bit presumptuous. Can't quite get your own employees in line, Sheriff? Management is an important skill, you know," Mr. Seedcache said, with a guarded smugness.
"He's a kind buck, more or less. Lots of manners and propriety in him," Beatrix retorted, tucking into her dish with some will, eyes going wide as the scents and flavors mixed, as they were quite familiar to her.
"Thanks for the good word, Sheriff," Buck said while a smile, stirring up the noodles with some of the vegetables and other pieces. He cautiously ate them, chewing slowly and contemplatively. "Mm, very... new. Seems familiar somehow but I can't place some of this."
"The dish is called khauk swè thoke, a very popular one in my family. We make it with fresh wheat noodles, and shredded vegetables. I use a mix of cabbage, carrots, parsnips and radishes. And I can't forget the dried shrimp and thinly cut dried fish. It's the real secret to why it's so good."
Buck stopped chewing his third mouthful for a moment, fighting his own reaction. Fish. It had been fish he smelled. He was eating fish, with vegetables. What was worse, in his estimation, was that it wasn't sickening him. It settled well in his stomach, without a quiver. "First time I ever tried fish. And these are some delicious vegetables. I thought he said he didn't get any."
"He never buys any," Hayma corrected. "Hrang has many mammals over sometimes, who listen to him speak. He used to entertain important mammals from Zootopia, so Daw Peony tells, but they stopped coming, but that was fine. She didn't like them; they frightened her. I feel sorry for the poor girl, these new mammals are not kind either. She spends so much time in Bunnyburrow because of this. One of them brings foods and Hrang only too happily takes them, has me cook with them. He... he needs to pay me less because he generously feeds me."
Buck bit back a hateful comment and smothered it down with more of the dish. "Why do you call him that?"
Hayma shrugged and picked at the plate, coming up with a shrimp and some of the vegetables. "Habit. It's something I was taught, to show respect for an employer. It's an old word, it means 'lord' or something like it. It's just a tradition. He hired me because I was small enough to fit his home and I was serving as a waitress in a restaurant he went to in Zootopia. He seemed strange then as now. Oddly uncomfortable with others. I have heard him say when Daw Peony comes home from visiting with the Dreysons that she should cultivate business connections but, like he explains in his talks, stay with her sort."
While Buck and Hayma spoke in low tones, Beatrix spoke with Mr. Seedcache. "I hear you have citrons, sir. I'd like to buy a few of them."
"Really now, Sheriff? A whole official trip to buy some fruit?" Mr. Seedcache huffed incredulously and shook his head. "What waste. What excess."
"I knew I was coming here, I knew you had citrons, I know I wanted them. That's efficiency and forward-thinking. I'm much more on top of certain things than you might think," Beatrix retorted.
"But why come here, besides to deliver my daughter? She had nothing to do with that. Surely she had no connection to that... degenerate organization. What has happened to our fine Tri-Burrows area?"
"It got rich, got popular, and got famous thanks to Judy Hopps. It raises our profile and puts more bucks in our pockets. A rising tide and all that," Beatrix calmly noted, eating her noodles with all the refinement she could muster.
"Some things should stay in the city, the Hopps doe included. She's gone completely Zootopian. It wouldn't surprise me if she joined that church they have there, like her odd brother. The Solaterra church is a good and proper organization."
"It certainly did a lot of good for Gideon Ovine. He was in that fire, helping folks escape. You want good and proper, there's a Tri-Burrow citizen of quality."
"If you say so. That still doesn't explain why you chose to come here aside from delivering my daughter, which tells me you were at the Dreyson homestead with that bloated lout Ebeneezer. Is he still insisting everyone call him Big Daddy and sleeping his productive days away on his patio?"
"He's still a real character, and good for him," Beatrix chuckled. "Yes, I was there, asking questions. I'd been meaning to talk to you about some things but I think I don't need to go down the same line of questioning anymore."
The meal proceeded silently a bit longer, until Peony pushed her half-eaten meal away. That got Hayma's attention. "Daw Peony? Did kya ma make a mistake in the proportions?"
"No, no it's delicious, Hayma. It's just the wind changed. Our orchard sub-station storage buildings are being stripped down, painted and varnished to keep the wood safe, and I can smell the stripper and varnish from here. I told you I was sensitive," Peony said.
Beatrix stood up slowly and nodded to Hayma. "Ma'am, that was some deliciously prepared food. You have a real talent. Mr. Seedcache... my election is nowhere near as in question as you think, I can assure you."
"We'll see, Sheriff..."
"Buck, let's head back to Bunnyburrow for the day."
"R-right, Sheriff," Buck said, standing up awkwardly and giving another big smile to Hayma. "Ma'am, it was a real pleasure to know you and to taste your cooking. Are you very familiar with the Tri-Burrows? I'd be happy to be your guide."
"Deputy, please leave off disturbing my maid. She has work to do and has no time for your sloppy degeneracy. If she needs to learn about the location I can provide her with guide books."
Buck's furious response was cut off by Beatrix pulling him away and down the path around the manor. "No good would come of you treating him the way he deserves, Deputy. You like her, she probably was charmed by what you did and it sounds like you picked up on plenty from here."
"It was strange. She said that Mr. Seedcache has a lot of visitors who listen to him talk, and that he used to have visitors from Zootopia who scared Peony, or at least Peony told her that but that was before her time. She said that one of them brings over fresh produce that he doesn't pay for. He doesn't pay her as much because he feeds her; can we run him in?"
"If only it were that simple, Deputy," Beatrix sadly said.
"She also said something unusual. She said that Mr. Seedcache wants Peony to stay with her own sort. Ermintrude's a gnawing critter, and her family is rich as a bowing harvest. Can't get much more her sort than that. Unless..."
"Varnish and paint stripper. He's got some things that burn well. And he gives talks, and has some scary folks from Zootopia that don't come around anymore. I have to wonder what he talks about. He really didn't want you with that muntjac doe. Seems significant."
"But just... there aren't Purists anymore. There just aren't."
"Eyes open, ears up, deputy. Eyes open, ears up.
Author's Notes
Beatrix's Mug- Given what her boyfriend is, this is hardly a surprise. But, a rubber-hose inkblot black-and-white cartoon wolf? Seems she's a fan of indie video games, she's got a Boris the Wolf mug from Bendy and the Ink Machine.
Chomper-Romper- Like many terms that have been in play for ages, what it means and what it means to others differs based on who uses it, how, when and with what amount of vehemence. It might be compared to old terms for various races and classes, which can be used by old people innocently or younger folks intent on abuse. It might even be used by those in that category as a kind of solidarity. In this context, Deputy Buck is falling into the category of "innocently insensitive" by just using a term that he was probably taught by family.
Rimpssie Specsson- Here's another Niko reference. The most charming couple in that movie was Rimppa/Specs and Essie, a moss-eating wolf and a lost poodle. I split the difference and made him a curl-coated wolf. Throw his supposed parents' Finnish language names into a blender for a first name and his father's English dub name for his patronymic and here you have a sweetheart of a wolf.