What can I say... The responses from this once I posted Chapter One were stunning - number of views as well as reviews over doubled. I'd like to thank all of you for the support I've received in this community. It's so overwhelmingly positive. I love it here.

I rushed this chapter through the production line as fast as I could. Well, maybe not as fast as I could- I have to rewrite and correct it at some point when I am writing. After all the support from the first chapter, I knew I had to reward you somehow. I hope you enjoy the second chapter to Primal: A Zootopia Fanfiction.

There comes a time in a mammal's existence when he or she begins to question their life. Why am I like the way I am? Why can't I be something else? They often ponder on these easily answerable inquires, attempting to create unfeasible answers which only make sense within the confines of their thoughts. Many deliberately avoid the most important question which rocks Zootopia to it's core whenever the public hears it amongst the background noise of their city. The question which no mammal can answer.

Why am I here?

Not here as in a physical sense, such as Why do I reside in Tundratown when I should be living in the Rainforest district? These types of questions can be answered by even the youngest members of our great city. Another way the question can be asked which will make it seem more philosophical is by appealing to ones' true self.

What is the point of life?

When that question is asked a unique answer (which often is affected by what social class one belongs to) will appear in every mammal's mind. Some would say for work, slaving away to make a name for themselves. Many middle and upper class individuals believe this, especially those working in the downtown areas of the city- dotted with great high rises towering over the populous below. Outside of that area, however, the answers to this question become much more 'recreational'.

In the country, as well as in law enforcement, many believe family is the point of life. Rabbits follow this tradition, hence the phrase "They breed like rabbits". But they and other such farming species need these massive family trees to operate the fields which keep the belly of Zootopia full. Predators often do not follow this belief, with the exception of those in the ZPD. This is the main reason why prey outnumber predators in such large numbers, along with other such reproductive biology which will not be discussed.

Religion is a much more common response from predators than prey. The more frightening a predatory mammal is, the higher the chance of them being religious. Hence why animals like polar bears and lions often worship the cross. With de facto speciesism still evident on every street corner in Zootopia, such intimidating mammals need one whom will judge them fairly. This answer is becoming less and less frequent, however, as speciesism begins to decline in the progressive society we live in today.

If one begins to move into the poor and shadier areas- such as the slums of Savanna Central- the responses to this unanswerable question begin to become much more violent and inappropriate. Those involved in illegal activities often answer with regards to power; becoming the main dealer of their goods, eliminating their enemies, etcetera. Those whom still live in these dingy areas yet whom do not participate in the gut wrenching activities which normally accompany these regions produce the most cynical answers. Regardless of predator or prey, reproduction, suffering, and to serve are answers heard more often than not.

But all of these answers are simply opinions. The reality is that this "unanswerable" question is the simplest question in the world, but in our radical mindset we attempt to create answers which serve only our needs. The answer is, and has always been, right in front of us - since the dawn of civilization, and even when every mammal on the planet was 'savage'.

Survival.

This one word is rooted into every mammal's thought process, whether they know it or not. Predator. Prey. It doesn't matter in the end. When anyone is put under such huge amounts of hardship, their mind will revert to that one word until such stress passes. Whoever the unlucky mammal who finds himself or herself in that situation, their primal instincts will take control while their evolved self sits idly, wallowing in the darkness of their own mind. Their instincts echo the one word.

Survive.

Survive.

Survive...

This single word was the last thought of Nicholas Wilde.

He lay in the generator room, curled around his sly bunny's parting gift to him, his final words to her safely held in the device. He was forlorn yet felt warm at the same time. Maybe that warmth was just the cold taking its final toll on him. But his sadness was pure, and accompanied by something deeper. Emptiness.

Why did he feel empty? He had lived a fulfilling life, considering he was a fox! He stopped Bellwether and a hundred criminals like her, served the citizens of Zootopia over his year and a half on the force, and aided the process of ending speciesism. All because of that dumb bunny.

The same bunny that turned him straight. She was the best friend someone could ask for. He had to survive for her. For their friendship. For their partnership...

Maybe that's why he felt empty. Because he left their relationship unfinished. They should've been friends for years and years, until they were both living potatoes in a retirement home. But the cold and malnutrition had taken its toll on him. All that strength he had shown over his career was gone. He didn't have enough left to survive any longer. He could feel his mind failing. In his last moment, as death consumed him, he thought about her - and smiled.

What he didn't realize was that a single, crooked word escaped from his lips as he exhaled for the last time.

"Survive…"

But this single word was also his first thought.

Nick awoke covered by darkness. He lifted his head sheepishly, something above him stretching against the push. Survive. He thought. Why is it like this? It must survive.

His legs extended in an attempt to stand, but whatever was above him prevented him from moving substantially in any direction. It must survive. It must escape!

Nick drew out his claws and teeth and began to thrash at the object surrounding him. His recently awoken body ached at the sudden, violent movements, but he continued. Within moments the object was destroyed, nothing more than black strips of waterproof cloth hanging off his tools of destruction. The rest of the material was laying, ruined, on the steel table he found himself standing on all fours on. It has escaped. It must survive.

Nick observed the room, his neck stretching as he turned. The light fixture above him added to the brightness of the white walls and tile counters. There was nothing which limit his freedom - no chains, no weapons, and, thankfully, no one else. He basked in the warmth of the light for a moment as it began to defrost his pelt. A loud rumbling came from his stomach, and he turned to look at his shattered body, still covered in the rags of his police uniform. It has starved. It is hungry. It must survive.

His body, only recently awakened, strained as he jumped off the table and landed clumsily on the white tiled floor. In front of him there was a huge metal door, revealing nothing of the world beyond it. He searched for another way out, his eyes combing the walls until he saw a small window next to the door. Beyond the small pane of glass was his salvation. It must leave. It must survive.

He jumped up onto the counter and looked out the thin, revealing surface. There was water as far as the eye could see, and tiny flecks of ice floated by his green gaze. The sky was a sickly light grey, mocking his restriction in the room with its endless freedom. But none of this caught his attention for more than a moment. He flared his nostrils, a faint scent passing by the device twitching on the end of his snout. The smell was stunningly divine to his starved mind. It is hungry. It must feed. It must survive.

Nick jumped through the glass and landed hard on a wooden, and now glass covered, hallway. The fresh, salty filled air cooled his pelt, temporarily stopping its defrosting. He growled as he stepped on the shards of glass, raising his front paw to observe a small trickle of blood land in a crack between two planks. It is hurt. It is cold. It is hungry. It must survive.

Nick sniffed the air again. The scent was still there. A deep growl escaped from him. Prey.

It smelled even stronger here; his stomach erupting with pleasure at the thought of devouring the source of it. He had starved for long enough. The decision was made. He would feed on flesh. It shall survive.

Nick trudged down the wooden walkway, the tendrils of sleep still entangling him, his paws unfeeling and uneven. He silently followed the scent until it led into a warm, open door. Inside he would be completely concealed, surrounded by high walls on all sides. He didn't like the thought of putting himself in such a vulnerable and confined position. His instincts told him to leave and find food in a less dangerous place, but he wasn't sure he had the strength to do so. He had to survive. It must eat. It must survive.

Nick moved through the doorway silently, beginning to stalk his prey. The smell was strong; he was nearly on top of it. It was just through another wide open doorway to his left. Prey. It must eat. It must survive.

He slid through the the doorway, his dangerously skinny frame making him light on his paws, and looked up. There was his prey. It hadn't noticed him yet, instead focusing on something atop a massive desk while its feet stood on an equally large chair. He crept up a little closer to the chair, preparing to attack. The prey was stupid. It couldn't stop him. It must eat. It must survive.

His mouth opened, revealing his violently sharp teeth which had aided his kind millennia ago. He was only a few feet from his salvation. An aggressive growl shook his feeble frame. He couldn't help it - primal instincts overcame him. It must survive.

The prey turned and Nick stood his ground. There was shock and fear within the rabbits purple eyes. A small sound escaped from its lips, but Nick couldn't understand it. Prey pleads! He responded with another violent growl, his body ready to strike his meal. Another sound, louder and longer this time, left the rabbits lips. Was the sound sad? It didn't matter. It must eat. It must survive.

He tensed and threw himself up at his target, his eyes full of primal hunger. At the last moment, the prey ducked under him and his teeth clenched on the side of the desk. Prey Routs! He tore his teeth off the wood and whirled around, the thrill of the hunt filling up every fiber of his body. His quarry stood in the doorway, awkwardly pointing something toward him. Who was this rabbit to defy him? It must survive.

He crouched again, ready to deliver the killing blow. The prey still shook the arm it held out towards him, but it was motionless otherwise. This would be an easy kill for a predator like himself!

Power surged underneath his sickly pelt. But just as he launched himself a sharp pain took over the feeling in his neck. He landed awkwardly in the doorway on his side, his legs cast out in one direction. What had happened? Had he been defeated by prey? By a rabbit, of all mammals? Why? It must survive! It must eat! It must survive!

He felt an arm around his neck and another lifting his head up to be propped on something small. Soft paws clenched his upper chest, but he couldn't even muster a growl or a turn of the head. He couldn't move anything. He had been defeated by a rabbit! Paralyzed! He had to survive. Survive! Survive!

Darkness ate every speck of his vision. He could feel the rabbit's breath on his pelt, her arms holding him tight, her tears on the top of his head. His primal thoughts which controlled him before were still cemented in his mind as his other senses died off one by one.

It must survive! He thought hysterically.

Survive!

Survive...

The afterlife was less interesting than even the seminars Nick had to sit through at the academy. There was nothing to do - no more chasing criminals, no more late night drinking, no more nothing. The only 'activities' he could participate in were counting the days since his death and remembering the good times he had when he was alive.

I've been here for 544 days. He thought to himself, eyes closed.

That very thought consumed the fun from half of his exertions. But, he decided a long time ago, being bored for an eternity was better than an eternity of suffering like he knew some other mammals faced after their rather violent ends.

Was this heaven? Hell? Whatever it was, he wasn't excited by the seemingly endless, empty space which surrounded him. He sat on the darkness, stared at the darkness, lived in the darkness. Besides what was left of his body, barely more than a sitting corpse, there was nothing. His eyes scoured himself intently as if he expected something to have changed. He was thin, his fur was matted, and his uniform could barely cover any part of his body save for his chest. He smirked. It was the only way he could convince himself he was content with his current situation.

When he first arrived in this dark place he wept until his eyes couldn't muster up any more tears. He decided that since he hadn't shown much emotion to anyone, including himself, over his existence then it was only fair that he showed some emotion during his afterlife. His true self had been revealed during those first few months; no longer was he as sly and as sneaky as he had been in Zootopia. That didn't mean his deviousness was dimmed down one bit, though. His sarcasm hadn't been reduced at all and his conman attitude still prevailed, even here. If he hadn't been muzzled by those scouts when he was nine, this is the person he would've become.

Another thing which hadn't changed in him was his pessimism. No matter how long he contemplated life for, he just couldn't see himself thinking positive thoughts all the time. The line had to be drawn somewhere - he didn't want his partner to rub off too much on him. A genuine smile crept onto his face. His partner...

Judy was, truly, an exceptional mammal. It was her that led him astray from the seemingly endless days of scamming citizens out of their hard earned money to a new, righteous path of serving those he had once swindled. Working with her for the final year and a half of his life had been his favorite part of his 34 years in Zootopia. If his fate was truly to die in Arctic One, then he was glad that his last years had been so fulfilling. But, as his pessimistic thoughts had told him before, all good things must come to an end. And this was that end.

His smile vanished and was replaced by a bittersweet smirk. His eyes closed, the darkness around him kept out. Well, time to get back to the afterlife, he thought. A memory began to play in his mind - one of his least favorite moments with his dumb bunny but laughable none the less.

It was a Saturday, and even though they had the day off Judy insisted on bringing her police belt with her just in case they saw any misdeeds taking place. And, just as he expected, as soon as they entered JCHenny they left a moment later chasing a ferret who his partner caught shoplifting. Sometimes her police skills were a little too good.

She could let one or two of these misfits go once in awhile, couldn't she? This is beginning to screw up my day! He thought as he was gasping heavily. He was trailing behind both Judy and the shoplifter by several dozen feet. He barely passed the cardiovascular endurance test at the academy on a cool day, so running a twenty minute 5k in Savanna Central was absolute misery to him. His partner had what it took, and so did the crook, but he just wasn't built for that kind of activity.

He stopped, panting, and looked down the wide, empty sidewalk at the two mammals ahead. Cars roared next to him as they became more and more distant. Wait. I know this sidewalk! He thought suddenly, his eyes flicking to the shop windows on his right. I know these buildings! The petty thief turned down an alley and his partner soon followed. And I know where this piece of trash is going.

He straightened, able to breath again, and began to stroll down the sidewalk. He took a small path between two of the towering brick structures which lined every street in the district, their shadows taking the sun off his green Hawaiian shirt. The tight, dirty alley brought up memories of his twenty years on the streets of the city. He was rusty, but he still knew every path and every mammal he had dealt with before. A familiar tune from his hustling days came to his head and exited through his mouth in a loud whistle.

Many quick turns later and he paused behind a corner, his leg sticking out ever so slightly. Any second now, the raccoon would turn and - BAM. He would be the one to claim the prize, glory and all! Carrots would probably be ticked, but she was always the one who got the fame and thanks. Many mammals looked at their partnership strangely - wasn't natural, they said, a fox and rabbit being such good friends. She was the hero of all of Zootopia, while he only had the respect of the predators he hadn't scammed during his exploits. Long ago he accepted that no matter how hard he tried to be a better mammal, it would always be the cute bunny who got the love.

His whistling stopped. He really didn't care about anyone else's opinions, when it came down to it. He wasn't the fox he had been only a year before. He only cared about her opinion of him...

Tired breaths mixed with heavy pawsteps entered his ears. His barely visible foot extended a little further out from the wall, the remainder of his body hidden behind the tight turn. A moment passed silently. In the next there was a huge crash as the thief turned the corner, hit his foot, and crashed into the dumpster propped against the wall opposite the way he had fled from. Nick stepped out and looked down at the now unconscious mammal.

"'Ats what ya get when you try and ruin me and my sweetheart's day," He said smiling, his shoulder leaning against the bricks to his left. A sound of commotion behind him made him turn toward where the criminal had come from. Judy appeared at full sprint a moment later, her ears back, eyes focused, and light breaths coming from her open mouth. Nick's smile continued.

"Carro-" He began, but something halted the words coming out of his throat. His partner was pointing something glowing toward him, and his heartbeat sped up significantly. The small yellow and black device she held reminded him of an object he had seen mere minutes before, attached to her belt. His limbs began to twitch and he fell onto his back a moment later. A huge pain entered his chest.

She... tasered me? He thought, surprised and outraged. Dumb bunny! She's always had such sudden reactions. His eyesight went black. The pain wasn't enough to kill or maim him, but being knocked out was still an unsettling experience. I told that rabbit to cut down her coffee intake! He remembered every second before his mind cut out, and outside of his memory he mustered a chuckle. His mind had become filled with malicious thoughts as he plotted his revenge and his heartbeat had quickened until he thought it would burst out of his chest.

Ba-duum.

The warm memory stopped and Nicks eyes flew open. What was that sound? It almost sounded like a heartbeat, but his own had stopped at his death. The only sound he ever heard in the afterlife was his own voice.

Angry, he scowled at himself. What ignorant thinking! He had died 544 days ago - that wasn't his heartbeat. Only a trick of the mind - a sound from his memory. He slowly shook his head. "Nick Wilde, you dumb fox."

Ba-duum.

There it was again. It hadn't been his imagination! All the anger fled from him, replaced by shock. He stood up, something he hadn't even attempted in many months, and his eager eyes watched the darkness in front of him expecting a great spectacle. The heartbeats stopped and were replaced by the sounds of moving fur. What was happening? All around him was darkness, same as before.

The sounds of moving fur turned into the sounds of thrashing and tearing. A bright strip of light which almost looked like a slash mark took the place of the darkness in front of him. There wasn't anything identifiable projected in it, but it was light none the less. Nick thought he would shed a tear; he hadn't seen such a bright sight since before the power failure in the prison.

The light opened up, taking in the entirety of his vision. His eyes watered and he squinted at the light. Whatever he was watching began to look around the brightly lit laboratory it was standing in.

Wait. He thought. What am I watching? Who is this?

Suddenly it dawned on him. He was looking out from the eyes of some mammal, as if he were in their head. Whoever they were, they weren't in an enviable position. It appeared that the mammal he was looking out from had risen from a body bag placed at the center of a large metallic table. Had this character risen from the dead? Nick's view of the situation completely changed as a grumble from a stomach entered his sprawled ears and the figure looked back on itself.

His thoughts stood still, his eyes opened to the size of saucers, and his tail fell to rest on the blackness.

The large, circular vision before him revealed himself on all fours. His strained body, his torn uniform, and his matted fur were all there. He leaned in and placed his paws flat against the vision. "What..." He began, "What is this..."

His physical self turned and landed on the floor, the vision shaking ever so slightly. It observed the huge metal door, the counters filled to the brim with cleansing chemicals, and the barren walls, until it's gaze rested on a small window just above a counter by the door.

"What..." He began again, but his mind stopped his mouth as it went into an imaginative rage. Was this even him? He wasn't the only fox in the world... but he was the only fox with a police uniform torn like the one in the vision was. So was this a dream? He hadn't dreamed here before, and he couldn't convince himself that this was the first occurrence. Maybe this was his final destination, then. Maybe this was his punishment fo-

Nick felt a sharp pain in his right paw pad, jolting him out of his thoughts. The other Nick had crashed through the window and cut himself on a piece of glass, its - no, his blood dripping onto the wood below. He hadn't even heard the shattering of glass, but he felt its effects. Maybe this really was him, and he was a prisoner in his own mind.

The other Nick growled and Nick shuddered, his uniform shaking with him. He had only made that sound once during his life - when he pretended to be savage in the museum exhibit in order to save himself and Judy from Bellwether's schemes. But right now he didn't have control over his body...

A familiar smell of vegetables and deodorant entered his nose and another growl, much more violent from the first, came from his savage self. Nick's ears fell, his eyes opened even further, and he leaned into the circular vision until he wasn't an inch from it. He knew what was happening, and it made him sick to his starved stomach.

"Hopps..." He whimpered, "...run."

His other self began to stalk forward.

"Don't you dare! Carrots, he's coming for you! Get Away!" He began to pound on the vision, his fists clenched so tight that they could turn coal into diamond. But nothing happened. His savage self continued his advance toward Judy over a hauntingly familiar boat deck before turning indoors, where his cries became even louder. But he was helpless. His best friend would be killed by himself, and he couldn't do anything about it. Only she could stop him...

His savage self turned through another doorway and Nick watched intently, genuine tears beginning to force themselves out of his eyes. There was his best friend, the reason he became a ZPD officer, sitting at a desk, unaware of the imminent danger.

"Carrots..." He said, his eyes releasing silent tears over his heavy breathing. "Carrots, please... Leave, before it's too late..."

But she didn't respond. Nick stared downward in despair as the stalking continued. But in his savage thrill his savage self released a small growl. It was the perfect mistake.

Judy's ears perked up, and she slowly turned her upper body toward the origin of the sound. Nick hadn't realized how much he had missed her stunningly purple gaze.

"Nick..?" She whispered, here eyes filled with sadness, confusion, and a thousand other emotions.

"Carrots, run. It's not me. He'll-" Nick stuttered, a dark realization washing over him.

"I'll kill you..."

Over his words Nick heard a growl, and he knew that this was all Judy heard as well. Her eyes became fearful, and she stepped back, her entire body facing his savage self.

"Nick, it's me, Judy... Don't you remember?" She said louder than before, her ears lowering slightly from their erect stance.

A small, sad smile found it's way onto Nick's face.

"Of course, Cottontail. How could I ever forget you?" He murmured between shaky breaths.

Another growl echoed in his ears, and the small smile disappeared from his face. Judy's face became serious and her ears perked again, but her eyes were filled with pain.

"Carrots, you need to run-"

Nick felt his savage self tense his muscles, ready for a killing pounce.

"Now!"

His eyes snapped shut as the sound of jaws clamping on something filled his ears, which were plastered to the sides of his skull. He cracked open his gaze just a little, his tears obstructing objects but not colors. The vision only projected brown.

His eyes flashed open, relief pouring out of them. His savage self had missed his partner and had bitten hard onto the table instead. He straightened himself and leaned toward the vision again, his eyes intense.

"You don't have much time, Carrots," The other Nick got his jaw loose and began to turn towards the doorway. Nick's voice rose.

"STOP ME!"

Judy was standing in the doorway pointing her tranquilizer gun toward him, her arm shaking.

Nick moved both his paws up to the vision.

"DO IT! STOP ME!" His eyes were beginning to turn red. He had no desire to see his partner be hurt anymore by him. Even though they had been thousands of miles apart, he had still felt her tears and her pain as she mourned his death.

His savage self jumped off the chair, and Nick held his breath. There was a flash of grey and a sharp pain entered in his neck. He exhaled with relief - Judy had shot him with the tranquilizer. He felt his savage self's body begin to fail and felt the bruising impact of its limp form hitting the floor. Now Judy was safe from this monster...

She was safe from him...

Nick collapsed to his knees, his eyes focusing on the vision which quickly faded black. His other senses were now the only way for him to observe the situation. He heard nearly silent sobs, and felt Judy's arms wrapped tight around his neck.

"Judy..." He began in an attempt to comfort her, his nicknames for her forgotten. But he knew she couldn't hear him. All his attempts to warn her had been in vain - she saved herself. He couldn't have stopped his Savage self from ripping apart the greatest thing in his life. Panic overtook him as the last of his senses died off. The darkness and silence had returned. Along with anguish, guilt, and tears.

This chapter was last edited August 21, 2016.