From the moment the officers stepped onto the ground floor, they saw what their colleague was talking about. The entire area was effectively a mob scene. There were so many camera mammals and reporters, they could barely see the entryway on the other side. One look at one of the rams in the front told them it was going to be a long afternoon. But this wasn't their first rodeo, both had done this song and dance before. All they had to do was keep things simple. Don't provide unintentional misinformation. Don't say any more than necessary. Avoid loaded questions like death itself. With those things in mind, the first step was to make their way discreetly toward the podium and avoid being trampled.

And they almost succeeded.

A giraffe, tall as they are, caught a glimpse of the pair sneaking their way forward over the crowd. And they just had to announce this information. To everyone.

"Officer Hopps!"

The moment her name was called, the mob erupted into a frenzy. The mammals clambered over one another shouting and calling, waving their microphones in the air. It took less than nine seconds for the partners to become separated, Judy being herded toward the stage and Nick backing toward the wall to escape the stampede. With Francine's help, she was able to swim her way through the crowd and climb to the platform before addressing the animals.

"Everyone, please!"

The sound of camera shutters sounded off in every direction, lighting up the podium like a series of strobe lights. Mammals called out to her from the floor, at this point having lost almost all decorum. In short, the situation was going exactly as expected; with Judy trying desperately to get some form of order, and Nick standing off to the side. Not that he didn't want to help. He hated seeing his partner in situations like this. But as a predator, for now it seemed best to spend as little time in the spotlight as possible. Besides, he likely couldn't have fought his way through the mob if he tried.

In front of the lenses, microphones, and babbling reporters, Judy did everything in her power to calm the masses. Easier said than done; once mammals had a collective idea in their mind, they could be very difficult to sway. And nothing on the planet had a stronger influence than fear. After a few minutes of camera shots, negotiation, and a substantial amount of assistance from Higgins and Francine, the crowd was calm enough for her to finally get a word in.

"I apologize for the delay. We understand your concerns, and the ZPD is doing everything in its power to ensure your safety. At this time, it is advised that everyone take appropriate precautions. Avoid traveling after dark. When possible, stay in populated areas, and be aware of your surroundings. We thank you for your cooperation."

"Officer Hopps!"

"Yes, in the back."

"Have the autopsy reports confirmed evidence of a savage assault?"

"No. There is no evidence of that at this time."

Another reporter stood from the crowd, a prairie dog near the front. "So, we cannot confirm the predator was savage?"

"No."

"But it's possible that other predators are going savage?"

"We have no evidence at this time to suggest that any predators are going savage."

"But we do have confirmation that the attacks were committed by predators?" A buffalo called from the far side.

Judy paused. "Yes. Well, no. We can confirm that this most recent attack was carried out by a predator species. However, the investigation is still ongoing —"

The giraffe from the back interrupted her, a shrewd looking fellow from Channel 9 News. "So, this string of homicides has been committed by a predator?"

"We have no evidence that these attacks are being out by a single entity nor if they are connected at this time."

"So, there are multiple predators committing these homicides?"

The conversation was moving into dangerous territory. She would need to be careful here. "…Possibly. But we cannot confirm —"

"And the predators are not going savage?" the prairie dog asked once more.

"We cannot confirm that, no," she repeated for the third time.

"So, the predators are killing of their own volition?"

A new roar of camera clicks started sounding, threatening to blind her. Well, damn. Landmine confirmed. "No. No, that isn't what I said —"

"Judy Hopps! What are your thoughts on Regulation 647?" Yet another animal jumping into the mix.

"That question is not relevant to the case, and I am not at liberty to discuss it."

"Officer Hopps! What does the ZPD plan to do about this?"

"We are doing all that we can and ask that everyone remain cooperative while we do so."

"Are you leading this investigation, Officer Hopps?"

"Officer Wilde and I are currently focusing on the missing mammals case."

"So, you will continue to conduct your investigation alongside Mr. Wilde?" a sheep from Channel 5 asked.

"Wha — of course. Why would —"

Another voice from the back. "Do you feel safe continuing operations with a predator?"

The shift in Judy's attitude was immediate. Even from his position off to the side, Nick could sense her change, feel her aggravation. Her tail bristled and flicked at the top of her pants, foot paw wanting so badly to thump. "Officer Wilde," she emphasized, "is my partner, and every bit the investigator I am. We will continue to work side by side in solving this case."

At that response, she could hear a chorus of murmurs; some of fascination, others of surprise. Overwhelmingly, the tone seemed to be one of concern. And that only served to further frustrate her. Nick wanted so badly to come forward, to reach out to her. To ease her tension. But he had to control himself. If he approached her now, it would only make things worse. That was assuming the reporters didn't do that themselves. This conference was bearing a striking resemblance to one so long ago. That fateful day when his partner's slip of the tongue threatened to destroy their friendship forever. Not to mention the entire city. A thought he couldn't even imagine now; a life without Judy in it. And the most he could offer now was an encouraging grin, even if she couldn't turn around to see it.

The questions continued for over an hour. They covered topics ranging everywhere from the recent homicides to the increase in gang violence and drug-related crime. They tried multiple times to cover — and Judy deftly avoided — topics like upcoming proposals and regulations. One brave journalist even brought up the election, to her absolute dismay. Every time they came up, Judy wanted to scream. But somehow, by Serendipity's grace, she managed to keep her composure, even down to one of the final questions.

A small doe, a rabbit interestingly enough, looked up at her with big brown eyes. Pen and paper in hand, her voice was quieter than so many of the others. Yet her question, Judy heard as though she had shouted it through a megaphone. "So, is it safe to say that you trust Officer Wilde?"

For a moment, Judy's mask cracked, showing the anguish beneath. The aggravation at having to answer such a question. The offense at even being asked. The exasperation over the entire case, and the mammals' reactions to it. Then, she put it back, fixing her with a confident gaze. "Yes. Unequivocally. With my life."

. . .

It was late afternoon, nearly sunset by the time the conference had concluded. After bickering back and forth with nearly every species of prey mammal imaginable, all with an air of pokerfaced professionalism, Judy was utterly exhausted. Trying to rein in frightened prey was like trying to quell a raging fire with a squirt gun; basically impossible. Even so, she had done her best and nearly succeeded much to the astonishment of her vulpine partner.

Judy's words still rang proudly in his mind, even as the cruiser flew down the road. Yes. Unequivocally. With my life. There had been no hesitation in her answer. Not a hint of uncertainty. His partner had proven time and again that she trusted him and had told him so on numerous occasions, so hearing it really shouldn't have surprised him. But there was just something about hearing her declare it so openly to an entire conference all pressing her relentlessly to do the opposite that made his tail wag like a happy kit. It was yet another thing that he loved about Judy Hopps. Her unwavering conviction. Her beliefs were her own, and there wasn't an animal alive that could take them from her.

Unfortunately, that conviction also meant that sometimes, Judy Hopps could be a little difficult to calm down once something set her off. Her agitation was palpable, radiating off of her like heat from an oven. He could tell how angry she was just by how tightly her little paws gripped the steering wheel. If that weren't enough, her lead foot on the gas pedal was a pretty good indication. Up ahead, a traffic light clicked, shifting from green to yellow. After almost barely running the red light, he decided it was time to step in.

"Hey, watch it, Carrots. Keep that up, and we'll have to give ourselves a ticket."

The change was nearly instantaneous. Her small shoulders, rigid and tense, slowly slumped. He could feel, rather than see her paw easing off the throttle as the cruiser began to slow. "Oh, nuts… Sorry, Nick."

"Hey, don't apologize to me. Apologize to that sheep we nearly ran over."

"Yeah… I probably should."

After that, Judy did slow down, and thankfully, remained that way until they reached their destination. Parking the SUV, they made their way to a café for some dinner, Nick's treat. After the afternoon she had, he was sure she could use it. Going there always cheered her up, especially their carrot cake.

Unfortunately, it seemed even their supper wasn't without its problems. Though the establishment didn't refuse them — and Nick was very certain that was only because of Judy and their uniforms — the pair had gotten dirty looks from most of the patrons there. They couldn't blame others for staring, a rabbit and a fox dining together was a strange sight. They had always attracted puzzled gazes from others in the past. But now, that curiosity had devolved into hostility. When a middle-aged moose looked at her partner like he was vermin, he could visibly see the veins bulging at the base of her ears. And when their waitress not so discreetly ran his card, he thought Judy was going to literally explode.

She was so disgusted; she didn't even want to be in there anymore. She practically inhaled the rest of her dessert and made her way to the door. Nick was pretty certain the only reason she hadn't told the mammal off on the way out was because she still had cake in her mouth. Stalking back to their vehicle, her partner tried to ease her tensions as best he could. He was genuinely appreciative to see her so upset on his behalf. That caring nature of hers was one of the — many, many — reasons he liked her so much. But he didn't like it when Judy was upset. He didn't ever want her to be upset. He wanted her to be happy. And if he could be the reason for it, that would be all the better.

"Carrots, it's alright. Just try to relax."

"I can't relax, Nick!" And just like that, Judy was riled up again. "It's just like what happened before! Those 'journalists' at the press conference — it's like we've gone backwards! Asking if predators are savage? If I feel safe working with you? If I trust you?!"

So, she was still upset about the conference. Flattered as he was, Nick was a little confused by her supposed astonishment on the matter. While their behavior annoyed him, it shouldn't have been surprising to anyone. Ranging from Tundra Town all the way to Rainforest District, in total, there had been over thirty-seven incidents, nearly all involving prey animals. There had been some outliers, a few big cats, a teenage brown bear, and more. All in all, the victims didn't have very much in common. The problem was that the culprits did, all of them falling into the predator family.

Increasing distrust toward other members of the species was just an inevitable result. Anyone with built-in weaponry was seen as a liability. While the city was handling it slightly better than last time, it was not without its difficulties. One of the primary ones being that it was becoming increasingly difficult to enjoy day-to-day life. Even buying coffee these days often resulted in nasty looks. Nobody trusted a fox; and that had been true before the Night Howler incident.

Aggravating as it was though, Nick couldn't complain too much. Honestly, the larger predators were getting the worst of it — poor Jason had been turned away from multiple establishments outside of uniform. Compared to them, what he dealt with in the café was just a minor inconvenience.

And apparently, Judy wasn't done.

"What about those animals in the restaurant? Did they actually think an officer of the law would be using a stolen card? It's… it's… it's ridiculous!"

"It's okay. Honestly —"

"It's not okay, Nick! You're an officer of the ZPD, and one of its finest… and mammals are looking at you like you're some common vagrant."

"They're scared, Carrots," her partner reminded her. "Animals are getting hurt. They're dying in the streets. I mean, hell, that gazelle didn't even make it past her own doorstep. Even if I don't like it, I can see where they're coming from."

"Just because something is justifiable, doesn't make it right."

"No, it doesn't and I'm not saying it does. What I'm saying is that it isn't doing any good getting all bent out of shape about it. We can still do our jobs. We can still help mammals… and that's all that matters for now."

That seemed to do it. A moment of silence stretched between them, Nick's eyes on his partner, and her eyes on the street ahead of them. Slowly but surely, he could see the tension leaving her body, her fingers loosening their grip. The fur on her ears and tail started to smooth, returning them to their fluffy texture, especially her tail. Not that he was looking or anything. "…Thanks, Nick. I know you're right. I just hate that —"

"Whoa!" Rounding a corner, the pair jumped and came to a skidding halt as a silhouette appeared from around the bend and bolted right in front of their cruiser. "Sweet Karma, what the hell was that about?"

"I don't know. I guess he was in a hurry —" No sooner had his partner begun her answer to his question than another figure darted in front of them, running after the other and quickly gaining ground. There was a moment of pause as the two looked at one another in confusion. Then, it hit both of them at the same time. The vehicle was parked in an instant, both jumping out. Turning, the pair bolted down the street following the other two.

Being the faster of the two of them, Officer Hopps was first on the scene. Coming around another turn, Judy took off at a sprint, spotting the two slightly up ahead. If the absolute panic in the other animal's huffs was any indication, she had only moments to spare. "Hey! ZPD!" Her shouting alerted the assailant and paused its chase. Slowing, it turned, staring back at her with a pair of narrow eyes. In the darkening street, it was impossible to make out its exact shape, and it remained still for only a moment. Then, it turned and darted away, running off toward the trees.

"Stop right there!" Judy wasted no time and took pursuit, rushing after the shadow, and leaving the victim to her partner.

Nick arrived moments later, kneeling in front of the petrified procyonid who had finally come to a stop. His grey fur nearly went white at the sight of him, eyes widening with terror as he tried to scramble away. "Hey, it's alright, I'm a cop."

"You are?"

Upon hearing his voice and getting a better look at him, the officer felt immediate relief that they had gotten there when they did. The raccoon couldn't have been older than sixteen. He was just a kid. "You alright?"

"Y-Yeah, I think so."

Nick looked him over once more, checking for any injuries. The boy let him, clearly far too shaken to care. "Good. You're pretty fast, kid."

"Naw, I only managed to slow him down. Cameron's track team captain. If that cart hadn't been there —"

"Wait, I'm sorry, do you know him?"

"Yeah, we're on the same team. We were hanging out by the park after practice for a little while. We were heading home, and everything was fine and then — I don't know, I must have pissed him off or something."

"Kid, that looked way more than pissed off. Has this happened before?"

"No! Cameron's great… I mean, he's definitely had a temper lately, but he's never attacked anyone…"

"Okay. Well, listen. We're going to go get your friend and bring him in. Then, we can get to the bottom of —"

"Nick!"

At the sound of his partner's voice, his smirk vanished immediately into a look of panic. "Judy!" In an instant, his entire body had done a full turn, tearing off toward the forest like a charging buffalo. Or perhaps something worse, a bovine had nothing on Nick Wilde in this full of a sprint. Eyes laser-focused, he burst into the trees, his nocturnal cones adjusting quickly to the dimming light as his foot paws pounded across the ground. He learned a lesson that evening. He wasn't aware he could run this fast.

In the moments that followed, he discovered that he could, in fact, run even faster. A series of grassy thumps sounded in the near distance, making his ears twitch. They homed in on the sound, freezing into forward triangles when they picked up the distinct buzz of a taser. When that noise was followed by another thump and a feminine grunt, Nick's sprint picked up so much he started getting airtime with his strides.

"Nick!" Judy shrieked, struggling with all her might against her attacker.

Emerging into the park clearing, he heard the sound of his partner's voice. But it was what he saw that triggered an immediate reaction. Judy was lying on her back, flailing against another, much larger opponent mounted on top of her. The suspect was male from the look of its muscle mass and pinning her against the forest floor. A solid grip and her powerful lapine legs were the only things keeping him and his snapping jaws at bay.

Nick didn't remember leaving the ground. He didn't even remember moving. One moment, he was charging toward the animal pinning his partner with furious eyes. The next, he was crashing into him, both predators tumbling and rolling across the ground. Then, he was airborne, the opponent throwing him from its body. The fox allowed himself to fall, rolling into the momentum and using it to right himself and climb to his feet. He was about to reach for his taser when padded foot falls reached his ears, approaching rapidly from his flank. He heard the sound just as he rose, lifting his arm in a defense maneuver. Then, he felt overwhelming pain.

The suspect collided with him; fanged jaws clamping around his arm. Were he a prey animal, this likely would have been the end of their battle. But he wasn't. Nicholas Wilde was a predator and somehow, one all too familiar with this particular strategy. Despite this being his first attack in this manner, his movements were almost entirely instinctual, grabbing the muzzle and fighting back against him. If he allowed him to start twisting and shaking, he would likely end up with a broken arm. Based on the bite force alone, he may very well tear it clean off. The teeth were going nearly down to the bone.

Locked in grappling combat, the two males struggled against one another, one trying with all of his strength to keep the other from forcibly removing one of his limbs. That was now two things he had learned that day. Teenagers were a force to be reckoned with. Just how strong was this kid?! Certainly, stronger than Nick when he was that age. Karma only knew how he was holding his own. Adrenaline really was one hell of a drug. But this couldn't go on forever. He had to break his hold. He braced himself, mentally locating his taser for a quick draw.

Until the threat disappeared.

In an instant, his attacker went missing, vanishing from his sight with a loud — all too familiar — yip. Running at full speed, his partner got the suspect with a flying kick, tossing him away and freeing his arm from the jaws. But Nick was too focused on the sound he had just heard. In less than a second he regained his balance, grabbing his taser with his uninjured arm and taking aim.

And there, staring back at him down the barrel of it was another fox.

Just as the raccoon had said, he was young, clearly near the end of high school. His fur was black as night, with silver speckling along the muzzle and a white-tipped tail. His hackles were raised to full height, making him appear even larger, and his fangs were glistening with his own blood. But the most terrifying thing of all was his eyes. Long, narrow-set orbs like copper glaring menacingly at them through a pair of slit pupils. Both officers felt the hair on their own bodies rise, as each had a single, simultaneous thought: savage.

Nick's fingers tightened around the grip, angling the barrel to fire should he dare to move a muscle. He didn't even bother to follow protocol, to shout out 'freeze' or 'you're under arrest'. There'd be no point, he wouldn't listen anyway. He wasn't sure he could understand him at all. But now faced two against one, Cameron seemed to be considering his options. Which was strange. Savage animals weren't supposed to be capable of thought. Then, he turned and bolted into the trees. The trigger was pulled a second too late, and the animal vanished, leaving the probes piercing the dirt in his wake. Their suspect was gone.

Nick felt his eyes widen in utter disbelief. 'Holy shit, that kid is fast.' His first instinct was to pursue, but he quickly felt a smaller paw holding him back. "Judy —"

"You're hurt, Nick!" she snapped. She wouldn't even entertain the idea of an argument, calling in for backup on her radio. Naturally, the smartass inside of him wanted to disagree with her, especially considering that there was now a savage predator on the loose. A single glance downward was all it took to change his mind. The fox had torn so far in that he could see what looked like his own muscle twitching beneath all of the red. Any remnant of his sleeve was long gone. It was a harrowing reminder of exactly what his genetic weaponry could do — was built to do — to another animal. To her. The thought made him sick to his stomach.

And then, the pain really set in. With the adrenaline wearing off, the only thing he could feel was agony; his arm felt like it had been torn off. But feeling his partner moving around at his side, he decided it didn't matter. He regretted none of his choices and would make all of them again without hesitation. For had it been Judy in those jaws instead of him — jaws that had been evolved for rabbits like herself — the ZPD would be missing an officer.

The sound of rustling leaves drew his attention, eyes darting straight toward the source. A small dash of color disappeared into the brush, a fleck of silver in the leaves. Had Cameron been watching them? He didn't know. And Judy's voice distracted him a moment later.

"Oh no… oh cheese and crackers… Nick…"

He could vaguely hear her muttering to herself, searching her pockets for something, anything, to stop the bleeding, a cloth, a bandage, a paper towel. The most natural reaction for him would have been to tell her to calm down; 'Cool it Carrots, I'm alright'. But that would be a lie that even he couldn't pull off in this state. With the sound of sirens in the distance, he felt his legs start to tire beneath his weight and let himself kneel to the ground. Wherever the attacker was, he was gone now. Their fellow officers at the ZPD would take care of him. Those were their final thoughts on the matter for now as they watched the red and blue signals draw closer as the minutes passed.

…Until the sound of a gunshot sounded in the distance, changing their minds.