Everything in these short stories is mere brainstorming and isn't official to the planned novel unless explicitly shown so, which will begin whenever. But for now, I'd like to pretend they are official.

Be sure to read the notes at the end of this chapter. It may be important. It may not. Who knows? I don't know.

The Bovrairies, a portmanteau of 'Bovidae' and 'Prairie'. A small, but tightly knit area of Swintzia where bovvies from sheep, rams, and goats often hang around. Full of Bovvies but far from having a prairie. The area locked itself in the less economically advantageous regions of Swintzia. It located far from Downtown, characterized by numerous roadblocks and a complex entrance pathway. The area comprised of decrepit vehicles, overgrown vegetation, and cracked roads. It felt like a mammal had stumbled into the wrong place. Several bovvies preferred the place, treating it like an exclusive underground ring. The place built itself under a highway, which only allowed for its obscurity to further. Taking advantage of this, the inhabitants of the Bovrairies found a way to keep predators and prey out of their neighborhood. Many Bovvies were quick to distrust anyone who entered the area who they suspected to enter for nefarious or advantageous purposes. It was irrelevant if there were reasons they did it themselves. No other mammal could do it if it was something they couldn't do first.

One of the prominent areas were The Cloven, a bar primarily ran by these Bovvies. Its densely packed space were only a norm for the sheeps and goats that resided there. The place was mixed with flannel shirts, tank tops, torn jeans, jackets bedazzled with pins and messily drawn illustrations over it, with the roughness and dilapidated look of the bar complimenting it all. Bleats, laughter, and mild arguments filled the bar every minute and hour, making it a place that only ones used to the commotion can handle. But not all species inside were Bovvies. One species, entirely different from their appearance and ways of speaking, existed there. They worked as a bartender, tending to the constant demands of drinks and hard, natural liquor. Their leaf print collared shirt and simple blue plants deeply contrasted the clothing every other mammal inside wore. The bartender in question resembled a feline, an rugged looking one with light grey fur. Their ears were small and stubby. Their expressions looked disgruntled, a resting face that looked displeased. One would think they're just as rowdy and easy-to-upset as the other Bovvers. But unlike them, the feline lived in another country, far from Swintzia, where silence and emotionless expressions were expected.

The feline bartender poured a small pint of organic wine, consisting of grape and natural additives, into a small glass cup. They hand it to a goat, who thanked them. It wasn't long before another Bovver sat down, asking for similar wine. The feline nods without a word, doing the same thing. As they did, a ringing sound twitches their whiskers, noticing someone was calling them. Their phone laid on the counter as it vibrated, slowly moving. They didn't seem in a rush, finishing what they were asked to do, handing the wine-filled glass to the Bovver.

They then grabbed the phone, wondering who was calling them. Their eyes mildly widen as they realized who it was. They held the phone with both their hands as they placed it on their left ear. He then looks at the other bartender near him, a goat who wore a plaid flannel shirt with some jeans. The feline touches their shoulder, getting their attention.* "Hey, Ernhoid, could you help with the rest of the customers right quick? I need to answer this call. It's pretty urgent."

Ernhoid shrugs, a Bovvie's version of a nod.

"Thank you. I'll repay you, don't worry." He then presses enter on the phone, thankful the ringing lasted long enough for him to answer it. He walks outside from all the commotion of numerous sheep and goats. "Hel—"

"Goodness, Hugo. I almost thought you clocked out early from how long it took for you to reply." It was Nick, who sounded a mix of annoyed and relieved.

"Sorry about that. I had to get someone to help bartend for me," .. "What do you need help for?"

"We're at the gate! We need to show proof that someone wanted to meet with us at the Bovrairies." Nick added, his right hand nervously fidgeting in his pocket. "And they trust you, yeah? You've been here for like, what, five years?"

Nick and H stood by the entrance, a ram copped with a singular taser keeping an eye on them. They attempted numerous ways into getting permission to access the gate, but to no avail. The two thought of relying on the alternate route Hugo told them about, only to realize the route's filled with guarding rams. With no choice, Nick decided to call Hugo, something he wished he thought of doing first hand. Peering at the ram, they had no specific outfit on. Their clothing style had a casual and messy look to it; such dressing norms being the area's standards of wear—while also being its own police uniform.

H sat down, unamused as she glared at the gate. Her mind itched to use the countless paint-filled balloons that were in her bag. But she knew the risks, accepting the limitations. She flops to the ground, raising her military print tank top up to scratch her stomach. She then turns to Nick.

"How long will it be, Nick..." H grumbled, lying her head further down.

"Uh... not exactly, I've...—" Before the feline could respond to Nick's comment, H would interrupt him as she directly spoke to Nick.

"How—long, Nick?" she repeats, her voice kept a whisper despite it rising. "We've been at this gate for twenty minutes now! Any longer and that darn Gruccie's gonna think we're conspiring something!" H exasperated, rubbing her eyes with her free hand.

"Hey, hey, be patient. We'll get through the gate eventually," reassured Nick, lowering the phone as he points his finger at her. He places the phone near his ear once again. "I know it's ridiculous but this is how they work and we are not giving him our IDs." He says, sternly glancing at the guard, who seemed to be conversing with a sheep who was inside the gate. They looked back at the two now and then.

She lets out an amusing 'pfft', nudging his waist. "You know I have stolen IDs. It's not like they'll realize it," H reminded him, rummaging through her backpack. She then grabs a couple of IDs, some of them not changed at all. She splays them out like a magician asking someone to pick a card. "Come on, man. As long as you don't sound suspicious, they won't catch on!"

"What?!" He puts the stolen ID back in her pocket. "No! We're not doing that! The last thing us predies needs to deal with is getting a prey upset!" He reminded her.

She huffs, crossing her arms. "Whatever, just finish the stupid call already."

The feline heard the conversation, barely opening their mouth. "Uhm, uh—I've been here for two, Nick. And you know I didn't ask to be here. I only work here because I owed a friend."

"And that friend made you work as a bartender for The Cloven for two years? You guys made a deal or something?" He questioned with an unsure chuckle.

"It's complicated!" quietly exclaimed Hugo, a goat near them raising an eyebrow, looking confused. "But I can't really leave right now. It's busy!"

"There's no way a bar's that occupied this late at night." He said, scratching his collar.

"You'd be surprised with how nocturnal Bovs are. They're something else."

"They're not nocturnal, what are you talking about?"

"I'm saying that for these guys," Hugo reminded him. "Plus, they cannot sleep right, like, at all. Like, uh... did you know that some of the goats here are very light sleepers? They need to be in solitary confinement just to sleep well!"

Nick groans, pinching his temple with his fingers. "Hugo, you can fantasize about your interests for them later. Can you come here right quick to tell the guard that we have a reason to be let in? It takes ten minutes. The Cloven's not that far from the gate."

"I need to find an excuse to! I mean, most of the Bovs here are chilling or too busy gambling one another to ask for drinks right now. So, uh, I guess I can make a rush?"

"Yes, please! Thank you... thank you. It won't take long and they won't even notice you're gone."

"...yeah... they won't..." He quickly runs back inside The Cloven. Hugo looks at the crowd of mumbling goats and sheep, seeming unaffected toward his small absence. He runs back to Ernhoi, who was filling a glass for a sheep. "Um, uh... Ernhoid, I'm gonna have to go for a bit. Just for a few minutes, okay? A friend is in need of help something and it's a bit urgent."

The goat pats the feline's back with a toothy smile, bellowing a hearty laugh. "I don't mind. You've been here for almost a day. You deserve a break!"

Hugo mildly smiles, his ears lowering. "Thanks."

Nick raises an eyebrow after hearing the conversation. "What, uh—what did that Ernhoid guy say? You've been working there for about a day?"

"Under my behalf, don't worry," faulted Hugo. "I'm on my way, so it shouldn't take long!" He yells as he ran out of The Cloven once again, heading toward the gate.

"Alright. See you soon." Nick hangs up the phone as he awaited for his friend to arrive, slumping down to a nearby pole as he closes his eyes.

H sits by him, grabbing something out of her oversized backpack. "We'll get in there eventually, Nick. You know how... complicated the Bovrairies are. The sooner we get there, the faster we'll get a... somewhat better understanding behind Honorable O."

"But how do we know? Honorable O's not like the other four beneficiaries of Swinton. I feel trying to know his favorite daytime snack would require government permission to access. He's not like trying to decode Mr. Big or Mayor Swinton or Koslov... no. He's an entirely different beneficiary."

"So what if he is?" She says, moving herself closer to him. "Even the smallest slip up from him cause lead to the biggest clues. That's how it works. You give an inch of information, and with the right one, you can take a whole marathon mile with it."

"It doesn't work with him, though. We need more than... who he worked with or his affiliations with other high ranking mammals. I'm a failed entrepreneur and you're a crazed lunatic. What makes you think we're capable of figuring out this guy?"

"I don't know. But what I do know is that this is a great experience for you," She stands up, trying her best in reassuring him. "I mean, imagine being some low life citizen cracking through a guy that even his close buddies barely know about? Think about how that'll change how mammals will see you, how much it'll boost your credibility! You'll get that entrepreneur business up and running once again! Wilde Times will become a true reality, and—"

Nick splays his paw near her face, interrupting her. "Save it, H. I appreciate your enthusiasm but... it's not gonna be like that. Someone else will solve that for us. We're a bunch of citizens—collared citizens," He tugs his brown, leather-coated shock collar. "Let's have the ones who actually have the experience finish the job for us. For now, we just need to deliver what we can to them."

H looks at him with discontempt. She randomly darts her eyes to the left, realizing his last sentence. "...wait, wait. Nick. Did you even tell me who we're coming to see?"

"I can't remember his name but from what we were told back at the Rainforest District, he used to work with Honorable O for a couple of years before hiding here in the Bovrairies. I hear he's the reason behind the gate system, to prevent anyone who knows him from getting there."

"And I assume they won't suspect a crazed lunatic and a failed entrepreneur?" She chuckles, mocking his previously said comment.

He playfully pushes her aside, laughing. "Exactly, so there's a good chance they'll let us in."

Right as he finished speaking, he could hear the pants of an exhaustive Hugo, who had to run to the gate. "Nick!" He yells as loudly as he could, grabbing the two's attention immediately. "I'm here!"

"Pft, I thought I was gonna have to wait an hour for him to come."

"Oh, wolf calling the shrew prey." He says as the two ran toward Hugo.

The guard stops the two, pointing his unused taser near Nick's chest. He looks at them sternly, his fingers gripping on the weapon. The two kept their composure, with Hugo looking concerned at the ram's threatening usage of the taser. "Is this the feliboy you spoke to me about? Are you affiliated with him?"

Nick nods. "Yes, he is, sir."

He points his taser toward H. "Does the same go for you, ma'am?"

H nods, albeit more annoyingly. "Yeah."

He then turns to Hugo. "How long have you known them? You're long member here, so I trust your words."

Hugo haphazardly looks at Nick before turning to the ram. "I've known Nick for three years. He's a good dude, we've helped each other out on things. He, uh... he's the reasoning behind my citizenship here! I knew squat about Swintzia's laws and ways of legal citizenship since in Mabroni, my home nation, we have a different method to—"

"To the point." The guard pressed, his tone cold.

Hugo apphrensively clears his throat, continuing on. "I... well, Nick's a good dude. I don't know what he's here for but I know he's here for me if he called me to let him in."

"Yeah! I only wish to talk to him, that's all. We haven't spoken in sometime and we... uhm, hope you will be so kind to allow us entry. We thank you kindly if so, and if not, we understand wholeheartedly." Nick attempted to persuade the guard, his hands behind his back.

The rams slowly turns to Nick, a word not coming out from them. Nick and H nervously exchanged glances, their breathing shallow and hesitant. Moments of silence earthed around them before the guard would finally shrug.

"Is... that a no?" Nick wondered, raising an eyebrow.

"No, no, Nick. For Bovs, a shrug is their way of saying 'yeah!'," Hugo went on, "Though, it has numerous connotations related to the context of the conversation. Like, a shrug could mean 'I don't really care, you do you' or a mere 'whatever'. Sometimes it can mean a simple 'no' but again, depends on the context." He explained, running on about his one of many understandings regarding Bovvie's and their methods of communication.

Nick stares at Hugo with a head tilt and lowered ears, befuddled. "Oh... that's—that's, that—that's good to know." He says, uttering through his words, his voice growing quieter until his ending word. He could hardly understand what Hugo talked about, realizing he still has a lot to know about the citizens of Swintzia.

"That friend of yours knows a lot about them Bovvies." H acknowledged, seeming impressed.

"Wait, wait, I forgot to mention—"

Before Hugo could speak, the ram slams the gate with his horns, sending a mild shockwave that caused Hugo to fall. It shocks the feline, slowly hyperventilating at the abrupt reaction. The Bovvie stared at Hugo for a few, unwavering seconds. "I'd highly request for you to quiet yourself, thank you. "

Nick and H stood like statues, taking glances at one another before Nick could say something. "To be fair, Hugo does go on long tangents about things when given the opportunity, so that's... kind of a good thing for the ram to do." He brought up, contextualizing the situation. H only responds with a quiet 'ohh...', darting her eyes away.

The ram walks inside the small, glass-proof box, typing in the required letter-number combo to the door. As it opened, he looks at the view buttons present. One of them was the gate opener, its bright, yellow-green color an immediate indicator. He then presses the button, allowing the gates to slowly open. He looks around in case someone else planned to dash through the gates whilst it stayed opened. The guard grabs what's to be a small microphone, its fuzzy sound echoing around Nick, H, and Hugo. "Go in. Now."

Nick widens his eyes, taking a second-long look at the ram before speedwalking to the gate. "Uhm, uh—thank you, sir! We're ever so grateful for your cooperation!" He thanks the ram, turning to H as he waves at her to hurry it up. She was trying to put on her backpack. "Hurry it up, H!" He mouthed through gritted teeth.

"Shut up, man, I'm coming." H annoyingly retorted, drawling her words.

The two would make it past the gate and to the first of many areas that was The Bovrairies. The place looked run down as Nick expected, his eyes already focused toward a sheep lying on the ground, bottle still in hand. It had a wrapped 'The Cloven' logo around the bottle. "I'm gonna assume he had a bit too much fun at the local bar." He said toward H, droning out a chuckle.

Hugo stands up, still shaking up from the sudden altercation from the guard. He catches up to the two. "What was that?! He didn't need to do that!" He quavered, grabbing a hold of Nick's left arm. "That was uncalled for! That was... why?! I never had that happen before, and I lived through a 20-goat bar fight!"

H shrugs, patting Hugo's back. "What can I say? Bovvies being what they are."

"Ugh..." Hugo says deflatingly, laying his head down.

A lot of yapping ahead. Be warned.

This is a short story concerning the slow world-building of my Zootopia AU, "Savage Beneficiary", an AU that has yet to have its full-on novel. For now, it is condensed of numerous short stories, used as a way to build and brainstorm how I wish to work around a world that I plan to be blooming with varying terms, pejoratives, dialects, areas, and a lot of experimental world-building that goes beyond Zootopia's original shock collar concept.

I am incredibly impatient when it comes to stuff like this (because of how excited and active my mind is when it comes to expressing something "NOW NOW NOW!"), so I thought working with it through short stories would make me going through this project a lot easier, faster, and more fun without the stress of just trying to go all out in one story.

I don't know when I'll begin working on the actual story. It might as well take weeks. Months. Years. But better to be patient and use this method of short stories to flesh out this experimental world than trying to go all out in one novel, burn out, and then never work on the project again like my other 12938248248 projects.

I promised myself it wouldn't happen this time. This will be the project I'll make real progress with, and I hope that you, the reader, will join alongside if you are reading this. I really would be honored to hear how y'all feel towards this world. It's only the beginning, and it's gonna get messier (and interesting) from here.

Thank you. Enjoy the story.

Everything in these short stories is merely brainstorming and is only official to the planned novel if explicitly shown so, which will begin whenever.

Understand that this world is a world for animals, by animals. Any questionable thing shown or discussed within these short stories should focus on the species examined in that topic. These are not humans. These are animals with different thought processes, morality, views, ideology—everything. It will be a central point in some of the short stories and the future novel. They may have human consciousness, but ultimately, they're animals in their own right. I do not wish to give 1:1 human morality and standards to the mammals of this project. I want to experiment and go beyond what people are used to and comfortable knowing and understanding.

In short for some of the eventual short stories, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

Terms used in this chapter.

`Bovers / Bovs / Bovvies / Bovy` → A term to describe species of the family Bovidae (sheep, goats, ram, etc). Don't worry, they're still called their species. They're only called this in certain areas or around some non-Swintzian citizens (Hugo being a prominent example as he calls them "Bovs").

`The Cloven` → A bar where sheep and goats mostly hang out in The Bovrairies

`Wolf calling the Shrew Prey` → A Swintzian alternative to 'Pot calling the Kettle black'.

`Gruccie` → Pejorative term to stereotype Bovid mammals. Adapted word from "Gruncher", a portmanteau of "Ground" and "Muncher".

`Predie / Predies` → Alternative term for "predator".

`Feliboy / Feligirl / Feligner` → Loose term to describe felines who are not native to Swintzia.

`Beneficiaries of Swinton` → A high-ranking mammal who receives the highest advantage in the Swinton Family. This is still yet to be fully fleshed out.

`Swintzia` → The AU's version of Zootopia. Named after the Swinton Family, an elite power of mammals that has shared control across the many districts of Swintzia. A subcategory of the family is the 'Beneficiaries of Swinton', mammals who receive the highest benefits and advantages from the Swinton Family They are considered elites and are given almost equal power to the Swinton Family. Ironically, three out of five of the beneficiaries are predators. This is still yet to be fully fleshed out.

Nick's appearance in these short stories are not correlated with his canon movie design. It is based on one of the concept arts of his character that I felt fit the most for this AU. His character's also wildly different from his canonical self due to the scenario and world he's in, so don't feel too off if he may not seem "in-character". Same goes for H.

Hugo... well. He's just Hugo but he's a Pallas' cat instead of a Tabby one since... you know. Domesticated species are nonexistent. With the exception of sheep for some reason... God, this movie's so conflicting with what's allowed and not allowed in its worldbuilding. Whatever.

...really hoping to work on illustrations for these short stories soon to help illict less confusion.