Chapter 5
.
AN: Chapter 6 is shorter and follows directly on, so it'll be published next week with no break/ drabble.
.
Not far away, at the edge of the rainforest district, a young fox sat down on his bed, looking out at the vista beyond.
And the fall.
The pit of his stomach quivered slightly, it was a long way down.
Did his cousin feel the same way when he…
-No, he mused. That was anger, Ash wasn't thinking, he was. Too much so, like trying to knead a dough over and over, trying to get it to firm up. Only instead it stayed liquid and sticky, clinging to his fur and digging in clawing, he…
Closing his eyes, breath in, breath out, and do something nice for himself. That was something Dr Amy had advised him to stave off the clawing thoughts. Cut them off with something good. It was almost antithetical to how he'd always handled things before, closing his eyes, letting his mind get still. But, as he fumbled around and grabbed a fizzy blueberry sweet, popping it in his mouth, he mused that it did work.
Maybe part of that was that his mind's attention was derailed onto how odd it felt to have a sweet of all things at this early time.
Regardless, it seemed to work. Long enough at least for a gentle rap on the door to perk his ears. "Kris?"
"Yes Dad."
"I… I thought I'd make you pancakes, with blueberries."
The silverfox, in surname if not strictly in fur colour, smiled a little, letting his tail wag. "Thanks," he said, happy if quiet.
"They're from Miss Hopp's family farm by the way," his father carried on calmly, as Kris walked out of his bedroom and sat down at the table. "Nick couldn't stop going on and on about them. They're very good, I admit, but the way he talks about them…" The older fox chuckled. "If he ever goes out there and sees one of those bushes, I wonder if he'll just lay down on the floor saying 'I am not worthy' or something."
"Yeah," Kris mused, taking a bite of the pancakes, tongue finding one of the berries in question. That batter was hot, almost a bit too much to get the full taste across, and fluffy, steam coming out of the pores. They also had a satisfying chew, and a definite hint of something in there… Vanilla? Nutmeg? Whatever it was, it worked well, and balanced very nicely with the sweet tartness of the berries in question."
"Syrup?"
Swallowing, Kris shook his head. "No thanks. I think it'll overpower the taste. They're very nice."
William Silverfox flashed a smile. "I have very mixed feelings about that."
"Huh?" Kris asked, freezing mid bite.
"Well on the one paw I appreciate the compliment, on the other it seems you're really going native. No maple syrup? There'll be some graveyards out there, and anyone walking through them in the darkness will get a real fright from the turning of foxes below. You know that?"
Kris' ears dropped down. "Sorry," he said, reaching for the bottle of maple.
"No, no, no!" William urged, suddenly worried. "There was nothing wrong with it, I was just making a joke."
"I…" Kris said. "Sorry." With that, he pushed the bottle back.
His father couldn't help but sigh. "Listen, you don't need to keep saying sorry. I mean, if it's you attempting to make up for the maple syrup, it's appreciated but unnecessary, I…" He trailed off.
"What do you want me to do?"his son asked, nervously.
"The fact that you think you have to ask that question is the problem, Kris," his father said sadly. "I'm not blaming you. It's just that, after all that happened, here you are just terrified of… Well, I guess stepping on other's tails. Just making sure you're trying to please everyone and not make them feel bad and… I get it. It is a good thing to always keep in mind, and god knows you had to do it to the highest level possible during that dreadful week, and… I know that you couldn't do it, nobody could, not there."
"I… I know Dad," Kris mumbled, looking down and rubbing his head. His father stepped behind him and put a paw on his shoulder. "Tell you what will make me happy?"
Kris looked up again, tail wagging a little.
"Eating as much of those pancakes you want, with whatever else you might want, and then sticking these thoughts down in your diary. So today, once you're out of the courtroom and with Dr Amy, you can work on it, hmmm? After all, if you're too afraid of stepping on people's tails, all you end up doing is standing still and getting in their way."
"Yes Dad," Kris said, turning back to his pancakes. At first he ate them readily, getting through about half of them, only for his throat to start objecting, even if his stomach didn't feel that full. Switching it up with some of the syrup helped a little bit, but not much, and soon he was sitting down, the remains of the best part of a third of the pancakes left in tatters on his plate, or glued to the side of his muzzle. He wiped them off the latter and looked just a bit guilty as his father came in.
"Not hungry?" he asked.
His son shook his head.
"Can't blame you," he replied. "Here, I'll finish them off, probably won't be able to finish them myself." He shared a long gaze with his son. "Kris," he began, fumbling with his words before sighing. "I know that none of us really wanted this, not so soon after. But that's the lot we've got, and I suppose we can focus on the fact that we're just going to get to the end of this sooner now, rather than later. And when we finally get there? That's it. Uh hu?"
"Uh hu," Kris nodded.
"And, remember what I said about stepping on tails?" he began, looking up for a second or two. "You're going to have to step over them coming up," he said solemnly. "Because this is a courtroom, and there'll be plenty of mammals on the other side who'll be trained to try and step… stamp on yours, as much as they can. So, and I know you're brave and strong and can do it, but you're going to have to stand up there and hold yourself strong. Because we can't let them win."
"I know Dad," Kris agreed, even if he sounded a bit more nervous.
His father's ears flagged, and he leant in to hold him tight. "I'll be right behind you, so will Ash, and the rest of the family. And at the end of all this, today will just be another day. A long one, yes. But by the end, you'll be going to sleep, and all this will be behind you."
"Yes dad," Kris said, taking a breath in and out. He wasn't smiling, wasn't feeling too great about it all. There was still a deep pit in his apparently full stomach and, retreating to his room, he got out a paw brush and began to work on his tail.
It was getting better…
Slowly.
Shortly after his release, and after a bit of talk and working up the nerves, he'd gone to have the hatchet job cut-down it had suffered 'neatend out'. Which, in reality, meant cutting off even more of it, bringing it all down to one even length. A few 'friend of a friend' connections had ended up with him going to a fur and nails salon owned by another red fox vixen, her being a member of his species at least reassuring him that she knew the importance of this. And so she'd got to work with a pair of clippers, scissors or even tail contact ruled out, he holding it for her. His nerves calming quite a lot after the first few gentle sweeps, though the presence of the three unnerving suited corsac foxes that she apparently lived with, just standing there in a corner, did kind of bring it back up again. Whatever the case, they'd noticed it and departed, and the vixen had finished her job, all while idly talking about never buying this brand of off the shelf grey fur dye, or how a lion had randomly stepped in front of her truck and got wiped out… Etcetera etcetera.
By the end, his haggard and abused tail…
It looked like he was a cat.
The fact that it wasn't messy was something, he supposed, and now, looking back, he supposed it some more. The thickness was slowly building out again, he could run his fingers down it and see the hairs bush up and get pushed under. There was some substance to it.
Not much.
But it didn't feel wrong anymore.
Though again, he sighed, maybe that was just him getting used to it.
He kind of wished he could get used to a lot of things right now. Like the fact that it looking cat like, and not fox like, made him felt wrong. He was a fox, that tail was part of him, and it being wrong… Not fox like, made him feel not fox like, which was something so hard to pin down, at times so shallow, but so deeply, deeply, not right…
Or so he mused, he might be wrong.
In doing so making him right, which made it worse still, or...
Regardless, he recognised he was relapsing, so time to treat himself, again.
-Hot shower?
Hot shower.
A hot shower that lasted a long time.
Long enough so that, after drying himself off thoroughly and getting dressed, a knock at the door rang out. Ash's family, all four of them, walking in, and Kris walked up to them.
"Feeling ready for today?" his older, smaller, cousin asked.
"Not really…"
"I'll be ready for you then," Ash announced, paw coming down and holding onto his cousin's shoulder.
"I don't think it…" Kris began, only to pause as he saw a thick, bushy, russett eyebrow rise.
"What did I tell you about this kind of thing?"
"Don't overthink, just do…" the silverfox sighed, putting a smile onto his muzzle. "Thanks… Ash."
"There you go, part of that's probably genuine," the red fox replied, pausing as his mother and brother came along. He showed Kris the way and he went down and sat by them, starting to play with him a bit. Rowan's little paws batted out, up and down. Kris engaged in, occasionally pushing his fingers forward to try and tickle him. A warm smile grew on his face.
All the while, at the back of the room, the two fathers looked on. "Seems like your hopes are being achieved," Mr Fox said, smiling.
"I suppose," William agreed. "It is good to see him happy. I suppose little Rowan is a good distraction from all the… thoughts and stuff."
"A fantastic distraction."
"Say, if he had been a girl I know that Rosaline would be her middle name. Any ideas for her first name."
"My wife narrowed it down to Hazel, with Holly and Willow as potential reserves."
"Right," the older silver fox said, nodding along. "I'm guessing she always planned to go with the tree theme then."
"With Ash, yes," he nodded. "Then for a long time, no. She was actually on the border at the time of the baby shower. The massive volume of woodland themed baby stuff led to the relapse you see here today."
"I suppose that's a... harsh way of putting it."
"I mean, is it? Do baby names even need themes?" Mr Fox pontificated. "I can understand the trope of naming all litters with the same first letter, but beyond that enhancement of sibling unity does it really serve any purpose at all, other than to…"
As he carried on, Kris was still standing by Rowan, letting the tiny kit explore his fingers. He gurgled along for a bit before sniffing, and then starting to cry, Kris backing up. "Sorry, I…"
"Oh he's a baby kit, he'll cry for no reason," Felicity said, holding him in tight.
"Right," Kris replied, sounding not quite as sure.
Ash, seeing it, immediately sprung into action. "I have a new comic book."
"Do… you…?"
"Whitecape, volume 16 special edition, the return of the three-eared ring-tailed vontsira."
Kris blinked. "Right…"
"Come on, I'll read you them," Ash said, pulling him along.
"I'm quite good at reading myself, in case you haven't…"
"Well we can read silently together then."
"I guess…"
.
Not long after, the time had come, Dr Silverfox knocking on his son's door.
"Coming," Ash said, folding the comic up, and out of Kris' sight…
"Wait…"
…
"Carry on," Ash said, handing it back. Kris began flicking through the last few pages of the chapter as the two walked out, completely oblivious to the little smirk on his cousin's face.
A smirk that faded… slightly… as they gathered up everything and made their way out. Kris walked behind his father, paw in paw, breathing in and out steadily if a bit roughly. Ash came up and held his other paw, Kris' breathing smoothing out. Eyes closed, he seemed at peace for a moment as the lift went down.
A peace that broke as he had to keep on walking, his ears down and tail flicking to the side here and there, an undercurrent of nerves coursing through him.
Ash gripped his paw tighter, distracting him a bit.
The sound of a throaty engine gunning it outside certainly did, as did the chorus rising up to meet it. Rumbles and roars, tire shrieks and howls.
The group of foxes stopped there, Mr Fox standing up. "Wolves?" he asked, crossing his paws. "Yes. Wolves… Well, never you fear, from one canine unto another I will…"
He was broken off as a massive grey biker wolf, followed by a smaller, perky red she-wolf, entered in. "Name's Felix," he spoke.
"I'm his sister, Danielle. Rest of the pack is waiting outside."
"For what I may ask?" Mr Fox asked, walking up to the mass of lupine muscle and standing tall.
"Predorian guard duty," he said, paw coming down, planting itself on Mr Fox's head, swiftly sliding him out of the way. He was left, frozen still, finger still up in protest but unregistering mouth hanging open.
"Wai… Hang on a min…" he began, but the she-wolf was already talking.
"You're Kris, huh?" she asked, not giving him time to reply. "We know what you're going through is heck'in tough, half of my fam have been through it myself. So me an the boys are gonna be escorting you lot to the courtroom, making sure no-one gets close to you." She smiled. "Not one claw on you, don't you worry."
Kris looked on. "I don't think that's…"
He was cut off by a shoulder jab from his cousin. "Don't overthink," he hissed into his ear. "Just do."
Kris raised a finger as if to object, only for a slight raised eyebrow from his cousin to cancel that out. So, living in the moment, the silver fox made his way out, initially flanked by his father and cousin.
Then, on either side, by the two big biker wolves.
And then, stepping out into the street, by a small army of biker wolves, all standing up to attention in sync, heads tilting up as they howled out. Kris couldn't help but feel it was a bit excessive. He understood the intention certainly, but he wasn't quite sure how the support was supposed to help him…
"Say, son," the lead wolf said, glancing down. "If you want, we can have quite the thrill for you. Ever ridden in a bike sidecar before?"
"Yes, my uncle's one, quite a number of times."
"Yes," Mr Fox announced, stepping out and puffing himself up. "He's been exceedingly thrilled by it in the past."
"It was fun," Kris said, smiling a little.
"Well, wanna ride in my one." The wolf said. "Heck, your little brother there can tag along too."
He was immediately met by a spit on the floor. "Bigger cousin."
The wolf chuckled. "You got spunk kit, I'll give ya that. Now, what about your cousin here? Wanna ride in a real bike."
"I…" Kris began, as Mr Fox began to go on a philosophical musing about what actually made a bike real, with the foregone conclusion on how his trusty steed was far more so than anything the biker wolves had. The young silverfox though looked at his father, who opened his paws out, and then his cousin, who gave a single solid nod. "Yeah, I do."
"-It bikes, therefor it…" Mr Fox trailed off as Ash and Kris jumped into the sidecar of the massive chopper bike, the various other wolves assembling into position. With a single calling howl, the engine of Fenrir roared to life, followed by the rest of the mechanical pack.
"I guess we'll follow," Dr Silverfox said, and with a throaty roar, the bikes took off, Ash and Kris holding on as they raced off. Little Rowan, not appreciative of the noise, began howling too, albeit in a different way, Felicity reaching down to sooth him.
That just left Mr Fox and his brother in law, the red member of the species letting his muzzle twitch. "Wolves," he muttered. "Stealing my thunder, huh? Well, if you think you can do that, then you are severely, severely, howling up the wrong tree."
Dr Silverfox gave a look over to his sister in law who, having calmed her kit down, gave her husband a tired look. "Yes dear, you shall."
"I shall!"
"Mind carrying the baby?"
"I will carry the baby!" he said, taking over. And, tiny fox kit in paw, forward he marched. Joining one of many mammals on the move that morning.
.
.
.
.
"Hey pretty thing…"
Carmelita gave a cursory glance up at the mammal in question. Coyote, male, very early twenties in very baggy clothes and a particular scent about him. Evidently emotionally underdeveloped, with particularly demeaning views of those of the opposite sex, and over inflated ones of himself.
Must be a Tuesday…
Still, she was glad that the various seats around her on the subway car were full, preventing him from settling down and approaching closer, but in the grand crowded anonymity of public transport, it seemed to be very much just him and her.
The large chiru antelope sitting in the seat to her side, by the look of his now heavily opened up suit commuting in from tundratown, was too busy watching something on his phone to care, and while others standing around gave disproving glances… None were making a move to cut him off, just yet.
Not that she cared. She was used to it, you had to be if you were to dress in such a manner as she did, and her skin was thick enough that this canid's interest just slid right off and into the gutter where it belonged.
'You know,' a sauve male voice stirred up from her imagination said. 'He could do with a little nudge to get the message. Say, my cane, high velocity, back of his neck, that kind of thing…'
The phantom quip playing out in her mind must have nudged her face into a melancholy look or something, given that he sprung on it to make his move. "Say, coming back from a long night's work," he carried on, giving an exaggerated wink. "I could treat you right… Or, if you don't feel that way, give a last bit of bonus overtime with excellent pay, if you know what I mean."
Evidently a lot of those around him did, shooting disapproving or outright disgusted glances at him, which was fair. Those at Carmelita though? Okay, attacking her professionalism and career, that began to prick her. "Was that an attempted solicitation I heard?"
"Maybe it was," he smirked, wagging his eyebrows.
Carmelita laid into him with a no nonsense stare. "The act of attempting to buy or purchase sexual acts is prohibited in Zootopia and, if charged and convicted, the mammal in question can be punished with a large fine or community service order for a first offence, or a spell of up to one year in jail for repeats. So, Señor, I think you should be very glad you included the plausible deniability of that maybe, elsewise I might have dragged you into precinct one myself."
…
"What the cuss!?" He was laid into with the repeated stares and tutters of the chattering crowd around, not that it dissuaded him from carrying on. "Just 'cause you dress up like some sexy cop, don't mean you can go around enforcing the law you street vix!"
"I happen to dress like a sexy cop because I am a very sexy, and ruthlessly dedicated cop, gracias," she enunciated, holding up her collar mounted badge. Technically speaking, she hadn't actually been formally deputised into the ZPD yet, and provided with the clearance paperwork the expanded her from a mere liaison into a fully fledged peace officer. But, while that meant she couldn't actually arrest anyone, she could, as a citizen, bring any miscreants to an officer who could. More to the point, there was no way this mammal could know that, something she had no qualms in using to her advantage.
After all, he'd annoyed her, something he planned to keep on doing.
"Well pardon me if I mistook you, lady."
"Seeing as you didn't ask nicely, no."
"And I mean, if you're really a cop, what does that even say about the cops anymore, huh!? When the ZPD said they were going to start hiring foxes, I didn't realise they were going to let any street slag in! Why would I even trust cops like you, huh!?"
"My twenty-plus years of law enforcement experience, particularly in the field of pursuing transnational criminal individuals for one," she said blankly. "Now, if you excuse me por favor, my stop is approaching, and if I miss it I might resort to following you home and tattling to your mother. After all, I'm sure you don't want to have your Ox-box confiscated."
"Well okay then, fine!" he huffed. "Just trying to be nice."
"-Just being a jerk," someone cut in, Carmelita pausing and smiling as a skunk of some kind moved in. She had a fully white tail, so not the most well known species of mephitidae, not that the result was any different. She stared up at the coyote and stamped her feet a few times, making him (and a few others) take a step back.
"Gracias for the favour señorita," Carmelita said graciously, "But I had it handled."
"Didn't seem like that," she muttered, looking up at the coyote. "Now listen here, you think you can just piss off a zorrx like that! Now scram you oppressive chauvinistic jerk!"
"Fine, fine…" Paws up, he began stepping back.
Carmelita meanwhile let an ear tilt to the side. "Pardon, but… zorrx?" It sounded like something to do with… Well, she didn't really know. Borks? Forks? Either way, it confused her.
"You know, fox, vulpine," she explained, not helping it. "From south of the border, living up here, having to deal with this crap."
"Oh…" she realised. "You mean, zorra?"
"Actually," she said, paws on her hips. "That's oppressive and non-inclusive against non-binary latinx vulpines and non-vulpine foxes. It's zorrx now…"
Carmelita's head tilted. "I'm… fine with zorra, gracias. I prefer it… And in any case, I think zorre would handle that matter better."
"Listen you zorrx. Zorrx was created by the latin vulpine queer community as an inclusive term for both vulpine foxes and non-vulpine foxes. Don't act like it's not legit, as it is, they identify with it."
"Fine…" she said, shrugging. "But I and all the foxes I know do not. Each to their own I guess."
The skunk was not impressed. "I bet you still call the non-vulpine foxes 'false foxes' to delegit and spirit kill them, don't you? I bet you feel so special, coming up here from down south, and betraying all our struggles to be these mammals tame pet."
Her muzzle wrinkled. "Firstly... 'zorrillx'," she said, noting the slight roll of her eyes. "I am not anyone's pet. Second, I don't even come from 'down south', I'm…"
"Well why the cuss are you using and stealing our language!" She hissed. "If you're not one of us, you've got no right to do it! What do you think gives you the right to go appropriating our culture and heritage, makes you feel so entitled you can go around stealing and speaking our language like you own it!"
"¿El hecho de que soy ciudadana Española, criada en los Pirineos?" she offered, folding her arms. "Vu que je suis aussi française, devrais-je utiliser ça à la place?"
..
The skunk double took and glared at her, while the coyote broke out laughing, bringing the ire of the skunk back round to him. "Oh sure, laugh at us trying to make the world a better place! I bet you supported that hippo too…"
Not wanting to get involved in something this dumb, Carmelita made her way towards the doors, the station rapidly approaching. 'Well, nothing particularly nasty yet,' she imagined the voice saying. 'I wonder if she appreciated the irony that you can't even pronounce that in your native tongue.'
The concept of irony was probably lost on her, like the concept of intelligence, she mused back to the Sly voice in the back of her mind. Still, unless she actually resorted to unleashing her spray, she was merely ineffectual and harmless. The only parts of that dumb exchange that had actually hurt her in any way was the insinuation that she was a vixen of the street or someones pet. Those insults to her hard work and dedication did get to her, and as she stepped onto the platform with a crowd, her fur bristled at the fact that those mammals knew nothing of the things she'd done for him. For everyone.
'Well, keep things all hush hush and what do you expect. Can't blame him for not knowing what you don't want him to know.'
Maybe not, she mused. But she could still hate his guts, and think she needed a major attitude adjustment.
'You know, I can hate his guts too, if you don't mind. Aaaannnd his feet, his paws, his tail, his ears…'
She rolled her eyes as she was ferried past hoardings and closed off areas, the odd beaver walking around and into them, working on whatever big extension was coming about. A few signs showed how a big new platform was being dug, the local lines from the south meeting up to go through it and then travel north, through the museum station and then far beyond.
A year or two too late for her, not that she minded the walk. Her little detour for the morning wasn't that far after all. Up the escalator, card out, through the gates, up the next set and the city revealed itself. A wide open field, monuments to Zootopian civil society arranged around, standing tall. City hall, Precinct one, Central station, giant neon advertising screen, Natural history museum…
Well, a bit more than that.
The Natural history museum may take centre stage at the front, but behind that lay a variety of other establishments and annexes. One of which, before she busied herself at the ZPD, she intended to visit.
Badge off her collar and into a pocket, her reading glasses out and onto her face, giving her a more studious look. The fact that everything more than a few meters in front of her went blurry a happy sacrifice. She even retrieved a scrunchy, pulling her hair back and threading it tightly through.
'Bookish, professional, but still a bombshell. My, Carmelita, how do you do it?'
A certain ringtail miscreant may have forced me to up my disguise game, she thought to herself.
'You know, you really would have done well on the other side. Not too late to change you know?'
The short, tiger induced, time she'd spent on it had resolutely confirmed to her that where she was now was very much the right side, thank you very much. She liked it that way.
'Well, when every one of your foreign trips involves looking up 'Carmy's-catorce of commonly changeable criminal codes and conducts' before paw, I suppose you do have a point.'
One she made to a coyote not too long ago.
'Well it seemed the most teased about one finally came in use.'
The one most teased by you, she mused.
'Well call me a romantic, but can you blame a guy for worrying just a little when his dame is looking that up? Now the jaywalking? That I can understand.'
Sí, she thought, a smile growing on her face. It always amused her that mammals presumed she ruthlessly pursued any crime down to jaywalking… When most of the places she went to on her travels, and her home countries for that matter, had no such laws on the books. By all means, coming to a place where it was part of the code she would police it as part of the code. But in places where it wasn't?
'Remember Ho-Chi-Mink city? Chasing that banker guy, what's his face… He genuinely thought that dropping you into that city would freeze you into a never ending traffic ticketing tirade.'
And if those laws were on the books there, we'd probably still be there today… So maybe we should have…
Closing her eyes, looking down…
She hadn't meant to slip back like that, but it had happened. Normally she'd have imagined him telling her to chin up, criminal-terrifying smile on her face, and if that didn't work pet her shock pistol for comfort. Old sparky may have been in her backpack, but she'd be remaining there for now, just like Sly's voice would be staying out of her mind for this. A polished look of professionalism was placed over her face as, walking around to a side entrance, she pulled out some papers and ID to show the waiting anteater guard.
"Pardon Monsieur," she began, this time pulling her accent into firmly French territory. Make your home in Paris, it was impossible not to pick up. "I am here to see Dr Zander Orshack. Dr Tiffani Reyna, from Le Musee de la Contrefacon, Paris."
"Uh-hu," he said, looking down at her documents. "Old black and white stripes mentioned you. He's been stuck in meetings all day, a lot of angry arguments with the guys from Batfour Beaverty… Vibrations from the new subway works running under the museum, apparently damaging the lost mammals of Antarctica exhibition."
"Oh, are you sure he cannot…"
"He told me to tell you to find room One-Thirteen in research annex A. A Dr Soren and Dr Bloom will be there, he's put them onto it."
"Merci," she smiled, as she slipped on in. Block A, first floor, room thirteen. Making for the stairs though, she tweaked her muzzle a little. When first arranging this, the zebra director said that his new donation had no real value, and he was excited that a different institute had a deep interest in it (or rather, in a long-running you scratch my back I'll scratch yours, agreed to feign it so as to allow an expedient acquisition on interpol's part). Now though, two educated mammals were working on it…
'Well this is gonna be interesting.'
"You can say that again Sly," she whispered, smiling as her imagination snapped to work.
'Well this is gonna be interesting.'
.
.
.
.
With a throaty roar the convoy arrived at the courthouse, having made a few slight, tight, justified as exciting, detours. It just so happened, or was maybe planned, so that by the time they got there the Fox family and William were waiting. Two lines pulled up, the wolves dismounting and marching up, flanking the stairs and turning out, tails held above the long path up.
"See, not so bad," Felicity said, "they didn't disrespect us here, honey."
Mr Fox, determinedly calming Rowan, narrowed his eyes. "How do you know that?"
"They lined up around us, not cutting us off. So they recognise we're important…"
"Reverse psychology," he warned. "I'm sure of it."
"Really?"
"It means we're at most as important to them as… -That busker over there." He pointed over to a young silver fox (with the true black and silver fur), who'd taken a break from his guitar playing to look up, flicking a salute. "Or him." He pointed to a fossa security guard walking past them, radio in paw.
"No Marla," he said. "It's actually the annual elephant pogo stick parade."
Regardless, Mr Fox looked on as the massive bike Fenrir powerslid to a halt, his son and nephew holding on in the sidecar. They'd never looked that thrilled after time in his side car, had they?"
Watching on, the two teenage kits got out, jiggling a bit. Something that, for Ash at least, morphed into a deep set look of satisfaction as Kris excitedly twitched about this way and that, working through what he'd just been through. Looking up, Ash nodded at Felix, who nodded back. "Look after him, big cous'."
Ash gave a bigger nod, turning round, paw on the back of Kris as he led him on. "So, 'just doing' feeling good?"
"I…" Kris said. "That was exciting!"
"You're welcome," he said, as he moved up to his parents and family. "He's feeling better."
"Excellent," Mr Fox said, stepping in line. "Say, Kris. Remember my bike? And its sidecar. Seeing as that is an effective mood booster for you, I think I can propose a highly stimulating and even better round of continual treatments. In your honor."
"Y-yeah, sounds good," Kris said, voice dropping down as he began to climb the steps of the courtroom. It was hitting him square in the face again, the efforts of his family, and the guarding wolves, straining hard against it.
"Oh," Mr Fox said, trailing off a bit. "Anything else I can provide?"
"Ummm… Bottle opener?"
"Bottle opener..."
"There were a bunch of these in the sidecar," Kris said, bringing up a brown striped bottle of pink coloured limeade.
Mr Fox patted his pockets and then clicked his fingers. "I will deliver one as promptly as possible, for your express benefit!"
There was a pause, before Kris replied.
"You're sounding increasingly insecure."
"Come on! Let's get through this and show them wolves, and any other species involved, what us foxes are made of!"
Kris looked down, breathed in and out, and focussed himself on the matter at paw.
Step after step.
Through the main lobby.
Through security.
Into a waiting area.
Time ticking by, second after second after long second…
A pika introduced herself, explaining the procedures. That he'd be called in soon. That he was to go to the front of the courtroom where he'd be sworn in. She handed him a card, showing him what he was supposed to say. She warned him of some of the things he might be facing, which made his stomach knot, before reminding him of his rights.
More time alone.
Other mammals were called up.
Others left.
Some crying.
Finally, someone called them, and in they went.
More corridors, more doors, Ash gripped his paw tighter as they were shown one and walked in, Kris gulping as he saw the mammals sitting around him. Turning to look at him. Watching, thinking, judging.
Still, step after step, through the gate, past the desks, it was just him now, his family sitting behind. The pika waddled alongside him, looking like she wanted to lend her paw, something quite impossible given their size difference.
He wondered if he should have asked if he could carry her on his palm, though the knowledge of how that was generally very bad manners quickly shut it down.
It probably wouldn't have had the intended effect anyway.
He was overthinking again, though he supposed it was a good thing as he stood up so he could face the crowd. There, in front of him, his family…
"Kristofferson Silverfox," the judge said. Kris had barely given him a look, a quick glance showed him to be a small… -not a wallaby, or any macropod he was familiar with for that matter. Dark grey fur with a lighter belly and muzzle sides, small ears that seemed remarkably pointed, more feline or fox like than marsupial… His head seemed far sharper too, sloping down to his nose far more akin to a shrew than the defined, long and rounded way you'd expect. And the nose itself looked far more like a deer's, and…
"Kristofferson Silverfox?" he said again, tone harder.
"-Y-yes," he said. He had to focus, this was a juvenile court so there was no jury, just a judge in this case who he had to convince. "Apologies, I had a momentary derailment of concentration there, I…"
"-I understand this must be scary for you," he said, "but it would be appreciated if you can concentrate. We all want this over, quickly."
"Yes sir," Kris said, glancing in front. His father, his family, a lot of wolves were there, he…
"Can you raise your right paw?"
Kris snapped back to him and did just that.
"Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?"
"I do," Kris said, before remembering the card he had. He looked down at it. "I solemnly swear, sincerely and truly declare and affirm that the evidence I shall give shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth."
"Thank you," the judge said, as Kris relaxed just a bit. His eyes wandered out to his family again, the wolves, those in the crowd. And then, turning over, on the other side he saw a large bunny family in the back and, up front, sitting at the desk…
The hare glared at him, and Kris stepped back, shivering, holding his tail tight. He wanted to know that he and only he was the one touching it.
And that Luke Ruta wouldn't get his paws near it.
The hare smiled, sending a shiver down Kris' spine, as the judge carried on.
"You have the right to refuse anything that you feel will self-incriminate yourself. In such a case, just state plainly that that is the case. -Saying that you 'plead the fifth' is not considered a valid expression of that in this courtroom. If you feel uncomfortable saying anything, just say so."
And with that, he turned it over to those below. The pika who'd lead him in, his witness support officer, gave him a thumbs up, but the attention was quickly gathered by a small bat, flying up to a hanging stand that the fox only then noticed was attached to his one. Perching there, he adjusted his bowtie and spoke up.
"Mr Silverfox," he began. "Would you please tell us, in your own words, what your encounters were with Mr Ruta, during your week held on remand in Zootopia Youth Penitentiary."
Kris fumbled a bit. "Well," he began, "I guess it started in the exercise yard…"
He trailed off.
He'd said something wrong, hadn't he? He…
"Carry on," the bat said, softly.
"Oh… At first, I was just standing next to him," Kris recounted. "There was this ball passing exercise. They do a lot of exercise sessions, to reduce latent energy building up in the… -the mammals residing there," he summed up. It didn't feel right saying something more accusatory, given that he'd been one of them. "Luke was on my right. This Capybara, a friend I made, was on my left…"
"A Mr Roegante?" the bat surmised.
"I… Don't know.
"Armando Roegante…"
"Armando, yes," Kris said, the words tripping up in his mouth a little. "I didn't know his surname, we didn't…"
"Understood," the bat said, cutting him off. He turned to the judge. "The same we saw previously. In any case, Mr Silverfox, how did this interaction go? Did Mr Ruta make any action towards you?"
"No," Kris said, "it was later…"
"Go on."
"A few days later," he breathed in and out. "Or maybe a day, I'm not sure, they all merge together and…"
"No worries, just recount the specifics."
Kris let out a breath, and a shiver. "I was handing laundry back. I had Luke's, plus his ID card, which he'd dropped."
"Intentionally, or…"
"-Objection," cut in a voice from the side. Kris let his eyes flick past Luke, and onto the Tasmanian devil now standing up. "Leading the witness."
"Mr Messenger…" the judge led.
"-I was going to follow up with unintentionally."
"Accepted, objection overruled."
There was the sound of a stomp from the defendants table, the judge giving a pointed glare, though things quickly started back once more.
"Mr Silverfox?" the bat continued.
"I don't know," he said truthfully. "I just got in there and placed them down… He wanted me to sit, I said no. And then... " his paw worked its way down to hold his tail. "He grabbed my tail." The tight grip, the curling it around the fingers, the hauling back flashed back in his mind. Breathe in, breathe out. "Near the tip..."
"In your own time," he reassured him.
"He said something about wanting to talk, letting go if he did, he just pulled me back on the bed. And he was going on about… -I'm not sure what exactly, but about how he just wanted a chat and he was being fair, and I needed to just calm down and be nice. Kept on saying, I shouldn't be selfish or something, and just let him do it. He never said what it was though, other than following his orders. And then I pulled my tail out of his paws, I said something about his emotional toxicity, amorality, being the reason he was here… -he'd said a bunch of stuff about his past girlfriend lying, framing him, me not being evil like her. And I tried to get away, he then jumped on me."
"Jumped on you?" the bat calmly asked.
It didn't help Kris much, he took a breath in and out, feeling his claws dig in a little into the witness stand. "Yes," he said, pushing on. If anything, he felt a bit better here, this wasn't so bad. Just someone trying to hurt him the normal way, the way he understood, not a way he… didn't. "Leapt onto my back, tried to choke me. I slammed him back into the wall, he let go, I got out."
"Understood," he said, "was he disciplined in any way for it?"
Kris gulped, feeling his paw shake a bit. This involved her, and… -He could skip over that cat. "Yes, we were both made to do lines about not fighting."
"Understood," the bat said. "You're doing very well. Now, on the day you were released, did you have any interactions with him?"
Kris couldn't help but glance at the hare in question, who happened to glance back.
Smiling at him.
Rubbing one paw over the other, giving it a sudden flurry, pulling back over his ears, sweeping them down.
Flashing up his eyebrows.
Staring at him.
Winking.
Smiling.
And Kris closed his eyes, remembering him in his black and white suit. Paws clasped around the grey furred tail of a crying… Or slicing through with scissors, teasing… Or that same smile he wore when he said he'd…
"Yes," he croaked, not meaning to.
"Kristofferson, would you like a small break?" the judge asked.
He looked up, realising that he was holding his tail tight to his front with both paws.
He looked forward, seeing his family there.
And the wolves, nodding, thumbs up.
Breath in, breath out. "No, your honour."
"Shall I repeat the question?" the bat asked.
"No," he said. "And yes. I did."