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Chapter Five - Points of Authority
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Tanaka's steps were careful and precise, closing the distance between her and the hiding spot inches at a time. She took advantage of a wide flank to put herself in the best position possible. Gaining the upper hand was paramount should the worst come to pass. The last thing she wanted was to frighten whoever had sought refuge away from the street. However, she surmised that they were already well aware of her presence—if not from the loud hailing of her partner, the smell of her scent on the wind, or the subtle noises that emanated from her uniform with each step she took.
Not knowing who or what this thing might be, the danger involved was staggeringly high. Everything was on the table. Tanaka almost felt inclined to keep a paw over her tranq-gun in lieu of her autoinjector. Brandishing the weapon would be faster than digging for something in one of the pouches attached to her belt. But, she thought better of it. Rash actions could spell disaster for both of them—or, worse, the unknowing citizens behind her.
"Officer Tanaka Sato, ZPD," she announced, "is everything alright?"
The being behind the dumpster became deathly still, unresponsive to the introduction. That wasn't good enough. The officer needed somewhere tangible to work from.
"There's no need to worry," Tanaka doubled down with a soft, angelic tone, "I'm here to help. You can trust me."
Another step forward, another treacherous second of silence. Tanaka felt the unease start to settle in. She didn't appreciate her situation's uncertainty. She hoped that whoever this was would see reason and say something. The cheetah was prepared to give them every ounce of assurance to make them comfortable with her presence.
At least, that was the case until the officer witnessed a foreign paw creep around the bin's angular corner. It shakenly grasped the edge of the weathered green metal for support, tensing as they struggled to stand. Tanaka could feel the apprehension built in her tense muscles as she released the button fastener that fitted over her dart gun and wrapped her paw onto the weapon's handle.
She braced herself.
Stumbling halfway out from their hiding spot, peered a terrified wolf pup. Matted tear stains lined the light-brown and cream-colored fur around her eyes, while some had saturated the straps of her beautiful floral dress. Speckles of dirt, debris, and minor smudges collected on the rear and edges of the colorful fabric, no doubt a product of her choice of shelter. Though half covered by the large container, the lupine didn't appear injured, but they were clearly in distress, which crushed Tanaka's heart.
The officer relaxed, removing her paw from the weapon and fixed the fastener to her tranq-gun, then knelt down to the young she-wolf's level. She donned a warm demeanor akin to a big sister's.
"Hey, sweetie," greeted the cheetah, taking another step forward. "I thought I heard you from the street. What're you doing all alone back there?"
The cautious pup took a step back behind the dumpster. With pointed ears that fell behind the wolf's head and a black nose that examined the air, she stared intently at the feline, watching her every move. Tanaka should have expected as much. Gaining her trust wouldn't come that easily, especially for a wolf backed into a corner.
"Who are you?" she murmured softly.
"Someone who's trying to help," Tanaka half-answered. "That whistle probably scared the life out of you, didn't it? I'm sorry about that," the spotted cat said. The canine displayed circumspect indifference, waiting for a proper answer. Tanaka saw no other reason not to be honest. "My name's Tanaka. I'm an officer with the ZPD."
"You don't look like one."
Officer Sato blinked and looked down, realizing she still had her meter maid vest on. Once removed and folded over her leg, she allowed the canid youth to spot the metallic badge pinned on her chest. The pup inched further away from the dumpster, getting a good look at the shiny hunk of metal.
"How's that? Better?" The wolf shrugged, coupling her nonanswer with a sniffle. Tanaka could see the lupine's nose wrinkling in disgust from where she was. The smell was pungent from where she stood. "Did you want to step away from that dumpster? You don't have to if you don't want to, but I can't imagine it smells that good."
The child shook her head feverishly before the latter part of her sentence finished.
"No? I guess it's a little bit cozy. That cardboard looks cushiony enough," she chortled. "That's alright. We don't have to do anything right now if you don't want to."
"Am I in trouble?"
"No," Tanaka's definitive answer soothed, then repeated, "No, you're not in any trouble. I just want to make sure that you are okay. The city can be a scary place. We wouldn't want your folks to worry about you, now, would we?" Crestfallen shame from the she-wolf ushered in a beat of silence between them; she struggled to fight back the tears that welled in her eyes. Officer Sato quickly clocked her dispirited reaction and jumped at the opportunity. "Do you know where your parents are?"
The pup grew more dejected, turning her head away and withholding any potential reply; she'd struck a chord. Tanaka vented her frustration with a light sigh.
She wouldn't get anywhere by making a bad situation worse. Pressing for answers wouldn't get her closer to reuniting the pup with her loved ones. She needed her trust first.
If only it were that simple, the cheetah complained to herself.
Atop her spotted head, an ear flicked at an epiphany.
"Tell you what," the feline pivoted, "I'm not doing anything important at the moment, so why don't we stay here a little bit longer? I'll ask you a few questions, and then when you're ready, we'll hop on our little meter maid cart and take you to the Precinct. You like the sound of that?"
"N-no!" the sharp young voice refused.
"Why not?"
"I-I don't… I can't—"
"What the hell is wrong with you?!"
While the canid child took cover behind the dumpster, Tanaka shot up from her crouched position and turned to face her livid superior. Clutched within the vice of Detective Snow's grip was his tranq-gun. The cheetah attempted to formulate a docile response to circumvent the aggression.
"I was just—"
"'You were just,' what?" He grilled, stepping toward her after holstering his weapon. "Blatantly disobeying a direct order from not one, but two commanding officers? Because that's what it looks like to me."
Okay, hypocrite, the voice spat in Tanaka's mind.
Why was he being so abrasive? Had Edward not noticed the pup directly behind her?
Tanaka bit her cheek. It didn't matter. Regardless of if he'd the child, they'd have to wait. Snow wanted an answer, and she didn't want to keep him waiting.
She lasered her focus on her irate coworker and opted for a more nuanced approach to assuage her annoyance.
"There were no clear signs of a savage mammal in the vicinity, and there was no indication that our mammals of interest were present," muttered Tanaka's robotic counter. She grabbed her vest from the ground where it had fallen and put the article back on. The smell it'd collected was gagging.
"So you were one hundred percent certain of that when you entered the alley?"
"Yes," she lied.
"Bullshit."
"Come on, you can't be serious," Tanaka argued, doubling down by playing ignorance—wrong move.
"You bet your spotted fucking ass I am!" He seethed.
Language, a duet of thoughts scolded.
"I had the situation under control."
"That's r—" Edward stammered, then curiously retreated with a growl. He looked madder. The detective took a sharp breath and restarted, "No, you didn't. I know because I saw your paw over your goddamn tranq-gun! Every mammal up and down the sidewalk saw you do it. Don't play dumb, Sato. You'd be doing a disservice to the tenets of what our department stands for."
"I was reaching for my autoinjector," half-yelled the trifling defense.
"And where would that be?"
The cheetah looked down to where she'd stashed the device away, only to realize that it'd been stowed right next to where her weapon was holstered.
"Dammit," she whispered to herself.
Paw caught plain in the cookie jar, she kept her eyes off the ireful wolf and basked in the guilt of her failed deception.
"What the fuck were you thinking? Did you not hear a word that Hopps said on your first day, or were you too star-struck to apply what she'd said in the field?"
A muted Officer Sato withheld any response to the wolf's question. Not even her internal dialogue could come up with an excuse.
"You don't get to dictate what laws, orders, or protocols to follow. We're police officers, not some glorified vigilantes. I don't care who you are. If the law dictates us to jump off a bridge, I better see your sorry ass on the way down."
"Yessir," mumbled the cheetah.
"What you did was completely reckless. It doesn't matter how many safeguards we have if we can't follow basic protocols. We have them for a reason." He paused, catching his breath with a huff. "We both know what we're up against. You endangered yourself and the lives of the civilians we are sworn to protect. I cannot, and will not, risk that."
"I understand completely," Tanaka acknowledged.
"Then you must also understand that I'd have half a mind to take this to Chief Bogo himself, right?"
What?! The voice exclaimed what she could not. Yellow and black fur bristled. The whites of the cheetah's eyes exposed themselves while her pupils retracted to mere pinpoints. Rage dared to billow out and consume her better judgment.
How dare he? Tanaka had only been on the force for three days. Not even that. The gall Edward had to ostracize her, a rookie, during her first week felt inconceivable. She understood now why the others had warned her about him in the first place.
Tanaka ground her teeth and took a millisecond to mull the threat over. Then, a moment of clarity.
He's trying to get rid of me .
She wasn't shocked; neither wanted to be paired with the other from the get-go. It was natural that they'd both end up nitpicking everything either of them did. She just didn't expect the detective to stoop that low. He'd been waiting for the right moment. There was no other explanation.
But why? Did she not deserve the opportunity to grow, to make even the slightest mistake when she was only just a rookie? Sure, Edward wasn't wrong, and she lied to him, but was besmirching her image the right solution?
She regretted every ounce of sympathy she felt for him. He didn't deserve it.
The cheetah officer allowed the initial shock to dissipate, feeling the tenseness built in her muscles subside and the air trapped in her lungs release with a disgruntled sigh. She instead balled that anger up into a pair of tight fists.
Fine. Have it your way.
If Edward felt it necessary to bring up their grievances to the Chief, so be it. There was nothing she could do after the fact.
But she wouldn't go down without a fight. To hell with the two weeks. This was personal.
"You're a piece of work, you know that?" No response. Just a commanding presence. That made her angrier. "If you think I'm going to let you belittle me like I'm some fu—"
"Leave her alone! It w-wasn't her fault!"
Rotating her spotted body away from her superior's reprimand revealed the short form of the young wolf—who'd found the courage to leave the protection of the dumpster—and stood beside the cheetah. Tears flowed freely from the child's cinnamon-ringed eyes and fell onto her dress. Tanaka felt her rage quickly begin to fade.
"She was trying to h-help me," she reasoned through her fit of crying. "If I didn't lose my Mama—"
"No, no, no, sweetie," Tanaka unabashedly cooed, taking a knee. She did her best not to appear provoked in front of the young she-wolf. "Don't go on blaming yourself on my account. It's not your fault. Even if he's being a complete jerk about it, my partner is right; I didn't follow the rules and wasn't safe enough."
"No, it is my fault," she sobbed. "I was looking at the books in the w-window, and Mama was gone. I looked and looked, but I still couldn't find her. I tried so hard. If I didn't get lost, you wouldn't be fighting. I didn't want to make things worse." The small wolf hiccuped air. She couldn't stop wiping at her eyes. "I-I'm sorry."
"Hey, it's okay. It's gonna be alright. We're okay. You're okay." The pup calmed a touch and looked at her. "It's a police officer's job to make sure mammals are safe. He was only making sure that I was doing that. We've got a ton of icky rules to follow that make it really hard, but they're important. They keep us from making a bad situation worse. Don't worry. We'll help you find your mama," Tanaka assured with a sympathetic grin, giving the pup a light bump with her fist on her right arm.
The wolf pup's cries shortened, softening into mild sniffles while her breathing began to normalize. "Really?"
"Yeah, we will." The cheetah turned her gaze up and back at the older lupine, words ice cold beneath her warm smile. "Won't we?"
Detective Snow, who'd appeared as if he'd seen a ghost, mumbled a meek, "Sure."
Unphased, Tanaka looked back at the she-wolf, who stared back at her with a sad look. "What's your name?"
"Veronica," she mumbled, "but everyone calls me Ronni."
"Ronni, huh?" Veronica turned her gaze downcast and lowered her ears before giving a hint of a nod. The rookie thought it safe to assume that the canid didn't enjoy complete strangers using her nickname; they barely knew her. Though, she couldn't help but crack a smile. "Your name sounds similar to someone I used to know."
"It does?"
"Uh huh," Tanaka nodded. "He had a fancy name just like yours. Do you think you can try and guess what it was?" The young lupine took a few seconds to ponder but gave up without muttering a single answer. The cheetah was more than willing to capitalize. "Billium."
The corner of the kid's mouth rose into a delayed half-smirk. Tanaka struggled to contain her composure but eventually succumbed when the little wolf lost her separate battle, and a snicker slipped.
"You're lying. That's not a real name," she giggled.
"Okay, okay. You caught me red-handed; I'm a liar," Tanaka grinned, paws in the air. The pair shared another laugh, injecting a breath of life to temporarily shroud the she-wolf's sad situation. When their short fit of cackling subsided, the officer reminisced. "His real name was Reginald. He was the cutest little marble fox that you'd ever seen. When we were little, he wouldn't allow anyone but his parents to call him that. He hated that name. Thought it was too fancy for his own good. One day, he decided he wanted to go by something simpler. And, thus, the name Reggie was born."
"That's a cute name."
"I thought so too," Tanaka gleamed a wistful grin. "I was never the creative one growing up. When I couldn't come up with something clever, he made one up for me."
"What is it?"
"Tani. Short for Tanaka." Before the little wolf could ask another pervasive question, the officer procured an inquiry of her own. "Would you mind if we called you Ronni, or do you prefer Veronica?"
"Ronni is okay."
"Okay, Ronni. It's nice to finally meet your acquaintance. You can call me Officer Tani if you'd like." The feline turned to her compatriot, who stood behind. A wry grin formed. "How about a nickname for you, too? Maybe something cute like… 'Eddy?'"
"No," the eldest wolf rejected adamantly. "Detective Snow is fine."
So superficial, the cheetah sighed.
"That's still a cool name," mumbled the young lupine.
"Right? How is it that we had to work hard to make our names cute, and he ended up with a cool last name like that?" Veronica enjoyed the jab, a round of giggles bursting in her maw. Tanaka wouldn't lie to say that she did too. Pink flower print fluttered as the younger wolf swayed back and forth. Her outfit was perfect, save for the plastic film that clung to her back. "I love your dress. Those flowers really suit you."
"Thank you," came her bashful reply.
"Would you mind if I helped get the dirt off the back? Looks like that dumpster got you good, and I wouldn't have you looking a mess when your folks arrive."
Ronni and her tail halted their swaying, reservation returning alongside shame as her ears and tail fell. The canid pup shook her head and said, "I don't mind."
"Perfect. Would you like Detective Snow to turn around to give you some privacy? It'll just be the bits and pieces on the outside, nothing major." Veronica supplied a series of hasty nods before Tanaka could finish. The officer shot a stern look at her superior, twirling her finger around, "You heard the lady, Snow."
Edward scoffed and turned to face the mouth of the alley, providing what cover he could with his lanky body. Tanaka aimed her gaze back at the shorter wolf and began picking and brushing away at the debris that collected on Veronica's skirt.
"So you were looking at some books on display?"
"Mhmm," Ronni nodded.
"Did you happen to find anything that caught your eye?"
Tanaka noticed the young wolf's features light up for a split second, her excitement on the brink of overflowing into an ear-shattering shout, but fell short when she resigned herself to disillusion. "It's stupid," she muttered, head low.
"Try me," the officer invited, guiding the she-wolf to face her after applying the finishing touches of her mild scouring to the textured edges of the dress. "That should do it," she added under her breath. Detective Snow reacted as if he'd acknowledged the side comment.
"I was looking at the Pridelands ," she revealed. "They had all the books in the window. They looked different from the one I have. I didn't know there were so many."
"Bindings & Leaflets is half a block away," Edward connected low enough for the officer to hear over her shoulder. "I can't pick up a defined scent trail. Safe to assume that's where she was originally."
Tanaka absorbed those tidbits of information and put them in her back pocket. She continued. "Isn't that that one book series about lions, tigers, and cats?" Veronica nodded. "Why would that be stupid?"
"Because it's not something for wolves."
"Says, who?"
"Everyone," spouted Ronni's dejection. "Other kids say I'm weird for reading a story about cats and should stick to my own 'big, bad' species. My teachers said that I wouldn't understand. Maybe they're right."
"They're wrong." Subordinate and civilian both turned their gazes to the steadfast detective, who'd pivoted to bring them within eyeshot. Edward's eloquent reply radiated the stoic conviction Tanaka had come to know the last couple of days. "They're all wrong."
"How do you know?" Ronni's timid incredulousness asked him.
"Because stories aren't limited. No species nor mammal can claim a story as their own if they aren't the author themselves. The most important aspect of a story is the belief that it's real. If you find resonance with a story, then keep believing in it. Don't let anybody take that away. It's personal to you; it's a part of you. Own it."
When the detective learned that two sets of intrigued eyes were staring back at him, he returned his abashed look toward the concrete below him. Tanaka surmised a hint of melancholy laced between the explanation that followed.
"My mom taught me that. She was big into books and stories, like you. You know what else she taught me?"
"What?" Veronica asked.
"She taught me how significant stories are to us as a species. That we connect with them in a way no one else does."
"How so?" Tanaka inquired. The younger wolf looked at Edward with a meek, fervid curiosity. The cheetah didn't expect anything grandiose. Maybe she should have?
"Before our ancestors settled on Zootopia's lands and agreed to peace with all mammals, wolves were considered nomads—or sometimes vagabonds." Edward explained, "They wandered the world together in packs, utilizing the stars not only to navigate distant lands but to recount the legends and folktales we've come to know today—hence why wolves are predominantly seen in Fleek mythology. Our stories are written in the constellations. They're passed down from generation to generation, recounted in hopes that we look to the stars if we ever lose our way. Although the art of star-scribing has long since been lost to time, that hasn't stopped those from believing in the essence of our heritage."
"How do I find my way home if there are no stars?" A sad Veronica mumbled.
"That's a good point. We don't get many stars in Zootopia, do we?" The detective mulled over. "Have your parents taught you how to howl yet?"
The she-wolf frowned and shook her head. She tried her best to fight back the downtrodden buckling that quivered in her throat. "My real mom never taught me how. My new mom was trying to teach me, but I-I can't make it come out."
"Then we'll have to take a quick crash course." Ronni's ears perked. "Is your new mom a canine, too?" A rapid flurry of nods. "Perfect."
The detective motioned the compliant Tanaka away from the wolf pup, then got on one knee, lowering his gaze to meet Veronica's.
"Canid mammals use howling primarily as a method of long-distance communication—like a radio," he motioned to the hunk of plastic attached to him. "Wolves are unique in that we've got the loudest and proudest sounding howls compared to any other mammal. They can be heard for miles. So, no matter where you might end up, you can bet that your loved ones will be rushing in to help."
"Why can't I howl?"
"That's the tricky part. Most wolf pups start howling at a young age, usually within the first few weeks to the first month of life. Over time, their voices mature, and when they reach around five to six years, they begin to participate and coordinate with their pack. Although, after years of evolution, studies have shown that some can't develop—or struggle to develop—the ability to howl at all."
Tanaka felt herself wince at that. When she turned to the young lupine, hopelessness had begun to sink in as tears threatened to spill over. She would have to hound the detective for his lack of bedside manner at a later point.
"But I wouldn't worry about that," came Edward's delayed, paltry response. "We could hear you all the way down the road, which means you do have a voice. That's a great start. I reckon you haven't had much experience howling, haven't you?"
"No," Ronni said dejectedly, shaking her head again. "The mammals at the orphanage never let me try."
A spotted ball of anger formed at Tanaka's side. Why on earth did they think that they had the authority to deny her that right?
"Would you mind me asking how old you are?"
"Nine," she answered.
"A little older than the average, but still not too far off," voiced Edward's optimism. "When you hear others howl, you still have that urge, right?" Veronica nodded once more. "Good. Then I think it's about time we give you your chance."
Veronica was somehow able to leech off the detective's faith and found the strength to procure another faint smile to couple with her newfound surge of excitement.
"The first thing to know about starting a howl is that your big mammal's voice comes from your core, right here," Edward patted and circled his diaphragm.
"My tummy?"
"Right," the wolf nodded. "You'll need to take a deep breath to keep your howl going for as long as possible. Keep your feet shoulder-width apart, your shoulders rolled back like this, and your back straight. You'll be able to pull in more air that way. Why don't we try that?"
"Okay," Ronni nodded back, doing as the wolf detective said.
"Perfect. Alright, once you've got your stance, breathe in normally." Veronica took a moment to find her footing and followed the detective's instructions, shuffling her feet to a proper stance, and stood up straight, then slowly inhaled alongside Edward. Once both of their lungs were full, Edward held his paw up and counted down, the pair holding their breath until Edward prompted its release. "And slowly out."
The wolf duo performed additional breath exercises while Tanaka split her focus between them and the alley's maw. Curious passersby peered in occasionally to gawk at the hubbub but never delved beyond their commutes.
How did no one else hear Veronica before? She pondered to herself. Were other mammals so heartless to disregard a guardianless child, or were they blind?
"Good," Edward praised, oblivious to the officer's mulling, "very good. You've got a strong set of lungs."
Veronica relished the compliment as her tail lightly swayed.
"But that's just step one. Now comes the technique." Detective Snow positioned his form so the she-wolf could observe his side profile unobstructed. He demonstrated each motion. "You're going to start with your head facing forward like normal. When you start your howl, your head will want to naturally crane forward and point up towards the sky. Don't worry about your arms."
Detective Snow caught the cheetah trying her best not to laugh. Tanaka raised an apology after a glare and a roll of his eyes.
"This might look funny at first, but I promise it's completely natural."
"Okay," Veronica delayed a nod, beginning to take the stance shown to her.
"Hold on," the detective beseeched, the pup halting in her tracks. "Not yet. There are a couple more things we need to talk about before starting a howl that'll probably reach all the way to Pack Street: Manner and etiquette."
"Manners? Like pushing your chair in?"
Snow blinked at her. "Kind of? I guess that sounded clearer in my head. Should have used a better word. But, no. Not those. Manner can mean how you do something as well," Edward amended. Veronica understood. Tanaka eavesdropped on the wolf's lecture as he carried on. "To the untrained ear, a howl is meaningless. To other mammals, it's just some long, drawn-out noise. To canidae, howling can take many forms. Some provide a sense of community. Others can radiate excitement, happiness, or even sadness. They can intimidate or make you long for something—or someone. Then there's celebration, and on the flipside… mourning."
The tonal shift and beat of silence that followed that last example was palpable. Tanaka couldn't keep herself from reading between the lines—she felt the pain laced within them. She was quick to recall what the chief mentioned before they became partners.
"A howl can mean many things," Edward quietly rebounded and returned to the matter at hand. "It's important to figure out what you're hearing to understand whether or not it's appropriate to join—which leads me to my other point."
"Manners," Ronni filled in the blank.
"Exactly. Wolves are notorious for our lack of self-control. We can't help it, and that's okay; it's in our DNA. All it takes is one bored, disrespectful mammal to fake a howl and start a chain reaction that could last for minutes."
"Why would someone want to do that?"
"Because they want to get a kick out of us. Don't worry about them. If you're ever caught in that situation and see an officer around, let them know what happened. They can write a ticket for that."
Tanaka nodded along with Ronni. She wasn't aware that was an offense worthy of citation. It made sense on paper, disturbing the peace, speciesism, and whatnot. Something else to look out for.
"Nevertheless, it's important to know when and where it's appropriate to start a howl. You wouldn't start one in a cramped train car or in the middle of class, but you might join one under the light of a full moon—either at home or in a public area, where allowed—or try to act as a mammalian homing beacon to your new mom when you can't find your way home—like we're about to do now." Veronica laughed at that, the same as Tanaka. "Try to save them for emergencies. You don't have to be perfect; no one is. But try your best. Like I said, we can't help it sometimes. It's natural."
"Okay," the young she-wolf nodded.
"Are you ready to give howling a go?"
"Yeah," she said, "I'm ready."
"Alright," Edward nodded at her, taking a couple steps back, "remember what we talked about."
Veronica separated her legs to a shoulder width, calming her nerves with steady breaths. Ready, she drew in a deeper breath and let her voice go.
"Awr-r-wr…"
Tanaka nor Edward needn't tell her how pitiful the attempt sounded. Veronica, confused, stared worriedly at the space in front of her. Determination allowed the pup to try again, but she croaked the same sputtering noise. Water pooled at the lids of her eyes, and she retreated into herself, cupping her face into her paws.
"It's not working!" She cried.
"Don't give up, Ronni," Tanaka tried to assure under her breath. It didn't work.
"What if I can't howl?" Ronni lifted her face and looked at Edward. "W-what if I'm broken?"
"You're not broken," Edward guaranteed in a firm tone, dropping to a knee and taking her paw. "Even if you couldn't—which isn't true—you could never be broken. You'd be lying to yourself, and we wouldn't want that, would we?"
Veronica shook her head with waning conviction.
"Think of the Pridelands. Remember Lord Parnok. Are you strong?"
"I am strong," she parroted with an unsettled whisper.
"Believe in yourself. You can do this. What you're feeling right now, that sadness, use that. Howls are all about how you feel. Don't be afraid. You are strong. Trust me."
Veronica gave one more hesitant bob and released a shaken breath, now steeled. "I am strong."
She pulled her light-brown-furred extremity from the detective's feathery silver-white grip and held her paws close to her chest. Anxious fingers wriggled in her grip while her lungs pulled all the air they could. Then came her voice.
"Awwr…"
Slow and quiet, Ronni allowed the weary call to resonate in a whisper. Tanaka could see the determination fighting to break through. Eventually, her howl began to build. Ronni's voice grew louder and more pronounced until her soprano could no longer contain itself. Tears flowed freely from her eyes. The vocal fry that strained her voice broke and blossomed into a pure and beautiful song. Her sorrowfully angelic instrument reverberated off the brick and concrete, finally spilling outward into the street for all to hear.
"AWWWRRRRRRRRRRR!"
Tanaka couldn't peel her eyes away. She felt locked in a trance, encapsulated by the sheer magnitude of the young canid's incredible feat. How could a powerful voice like that be locked away in such a small body? Veronica sounded as if she were her own tornado siren. The officer fought the temptation to cover her ears.
It quickly dawned on Tanaka that this was her first time hearing a wolf's howl up close. When she was little, she seldom caught the distant songs of Zootopia's lupine population under the chaotic clamoring of the city. They always intrigued her. Wolford never allowed Tanaka to witness one of his own; she didn't know him much then, and she hadn't known any other wolf to grant her the opportunity.
Seeing one now, if there were any words to describe what she witnessed, 'captivating' seemed fitting to her.
What does Edward's howl sound like? She wondered.
The inquisitive officer turned to her superior, who was still observing the scene on one knee, half expecting him to succumb to his primal side and join the youngling's call. Suffice it to say, she should have held him in a (slightly) higher regard. There would be no howl coming from him.
To her credit, she was correct to assume that the nature of Edward's species would reduce him to the baseline of his instincts. He tilted his head back and forth while the pointed radar dishes atop it swiveled to pick up whatever foreign sounds came next. The one detail about him that confused her was the unceremonious half-smirk that pulled at the left corner of his maw.
Past an accomplished exterior, there wasn't much to indicate joy. Was that sadness she saw? Or was it something else?
Tanaka shook her head. Forget it.
She couldn't tell, nor could she be bothered. This was Ronni's moment; he had to know that, too. The most she was willing to surmise was that the attempt had been made to boost the morale of the wolf pup—which was working, to his credit.
For the better part of twenty seconds, the she-wolf sustained her howl until she could continue no longer. Doubt seeped in and clawed at her fragile resolve between the break of her breath and the sob that followed.
Torn in a battle between continuation and abandonment, the detective was about to bolster her efforts when the air stirred. The trio picked their heads up and listened. Something beyond the reaches of the alley sought to capture the three mammals' attention.
A pure and equally desperate howl rang in the distance. The voice transcended the height of the buildings surrounding them and blessed each pair of ears. Veronica was the only one able to discern the sole mammal who had answered her plea.
"Mama," the young wolf muttered, finding solace under her winded breath.
No way, the cheetah gleamed in disbelief. She did it.
"Don't stop," Edward urged. "She knows you need her, but she hasn't found you yet. Keep going."
Veronica didn't need persuading. Her vocal beacon boomed over the heads of the two authority figures instantaneously and did so with little effort. The young wolf made it clear that she would not stop until she and her mother were reunited.
"Keep the alleyway clear," Snow ordered through the piercing sound, ears catching something behind them. "I'll stay here with her."
Tanaka turned back towards the street, revealing a small gaggle of onlookers that formed at the rightmost edge of the alley—four of them, to be exact. Three were mammals from the canidae family, two wolves and an arctic fox, with the other being a lowly hare.
Veronica's howling had no doubt wrought concern from those passing by, creating a slightly bigger scene than she anticipated. Someone had to keep the peace, and she felt obligated to try.
"Copy that."
Officer Sato peeled away and motioned toward the tiny crowd. She felt a severe lack of conviction. The mammals stationed there weren't unruly, far from it. They weren't disrupting the flow of foot traffic along the sidewalk and went out of their way to not block their only exit. They appeared to show genuine concern for the she-wolf.
In fact, before she could utter a word, they'd beaten her to the punch and asked if the wolf pup was okay.
Per her training, the most she felt inclined to report was cautiously mechanical, "She got separated from her pack. She's not injured and responding well; she's just distressed. Her mother is on her way to pick her up."
She reasoned that they didn't need extra details. They weren't family, and Veronica's safety was paramount.
The strangers wondered if there was anything they could do to help. Tanaka made it abundantly clear that the help wasn't required.
"We appreciate the concern. Unfortunately, we can't have you lurking around the scene for her sake. Don't take this the wrong way, but I can't have you interfering with official police business. The best you could do right now is to give us space so that we can do our jobs."
And there it was. The puppy-dog eyes. You'd think being an officer of the law would shield her from such callow behavior, especially that of grown adult mammals, but there she was, caving.
Unable to handle the discontent on their faces, Tanaka gave them a chance to send them away to provide aid elsewhere. "But, if you're inclined to help and happen to stumble across a distraught mother en route to the scene, you could direct her to us."
Opportunity instilled a newfound purpose. The group worked quickly to conjure a plan of some sort amongst themselves. Tanaka overheard the name "Roxy" mentioned several times between their momentary glances at the howling wolf behind. Their conspiring raised more red flags than it helped and didn't sit well with her. She was about to say something to them before the four mammals split up and scurried away from the scene. They plunged into the depths of the crowd, one wolf and the hare down the street leftward, leaving the fox and the other wolf to tackle the right, and disappeared without a trace.
They were driven; she'd give them that.
Tanaka tried not to overthink the strange interaction and returned to guarding the alleyway. Several parties stopped by to express their concerns, including the owner of one of the businesses next door. She gave them all the same information. No fuss. No heroics. No problems. Why couldn't the first group have been more like them?
Speaking of, was that the wolf-hare duo doubling back down the sidewalk?
Erect over the heads of oncoming traffic were the long ears of the hare, all but confirming her suspicions. The lagomorph maneuvered through the crowd, blazing past mammal after mammal at a breakneck pace. Tanaka was shocked that they hadn't collided with anyone yet.
Trailing behind a touch slower was a lupine, but not the same one that accompanied the lapine earlier. This new wolf was much easier to spot in the crowd. Their height stretched half a head taller than the one previous. Instead of a tan hue, their fur was a shade of purplish-gray with unnatural black accents above their eyes and cheeks. Behind them, a plume of silver-white headfur tied into a ponytail that swayed with each step she took, save for the strand at the front that drooped over their face dyed a radical neon green—with nails to match. The most notable change apart from furstyle was their outfit.
A far cry from the modest black jeans and t-shirt that the wolf prior donned, they were clad in high-waist jeans, a flowing mid-sleeve button-up fashioned to resemble the carpeted floor of a retro arcade, and a short silver necklace that completed their audaciously dated feminine look.
More interesting was how she carried herself. There was a particular ferocity ridden through her features. The wolf's eyes were trained on the sidewalk ahead, paying little heed to those who had nearly got in her way. She was desperate.
As the lupine got closer, Tanaka could make out other details. Apart from her golden-brown eyes, purple hoop and bar pierced on her right ear, and the tuft of brown fur behind her—of what the officer presumed to be a backpack—she could barely glean the pendant attached at both ends of the necklace. Similar in material, the charm was long and flat, its simplistic design a direct oxymoron to its wearer. Even with her being a fair distance away, the officer could distinguish what word the ornament spelled: Roxy.
That's when the two of them locked gazes. The wolf paused, basking in the cheetah's presence. There was a flash of recognition, then relief as her intensity began to wash away. The pup's name mouthed on her lips. She promptly picked up the pace.
Impossible. It'd only been close to five minutes since they left, but there wasn't a shadow of a doubt that they were precisely who Tanaka thought this was.
How could they have found Ronni's mother that fast?
The retro-looking canid made headway past the hare and arrived at the mouth of the alley. Roxy acknowledged Tanaka for the briefest moments, the cheetah unable to provide so much as a word of explanation to the mother before turning to the howling wolf pup further inside.
"Veronica?" She asked delicately.
The alleyway decrescendoed into blissful silence. Ronni looked forward and found the tall form of the lupine. Her ears fell back, consolation fighting through the apprehension that tugged on her sullen face.
"M-mama?" Ronni faltered, trying to be strong.
"Vee?!"
Tanaka jumped at the outburst. Backpacks gaining sentience wasn't on her bingo card for the day. Though, to be fair, she did misinterpret what they were initially.
An energetic raccoon kit scrambled down the back of the mother-wolf's flamboyant shirt. Air caught the plaid shirt of the procyon and fluttered when he bolted towards Ronni, the legs of his cargo shorts loudly grinding against one another.
"Pask!" Veronica cried, cracking a warm smile beneath a veil of tears, unable to keep her emotions at bay. She broke into her own sprint, meeting the raccoon halfway when they collided, enveloping each other in their arms. Roxy flanked the both of them, joining their embrace. Ronni couldn't stop apologizing.
Tanaka was on the verge of getting caught up in the sentimental atmosphere until she caught the detective in her sights. Unlike her, Edward had kept his nose buried in his work. He was busy chatting it up with someone over his personal radio. If the department had been able to supply her with one that wasn't attached to a meter maid cart, she would have eavesdropped in a heartbeat. Thankfully, she didn't have to.
Snow wrapped around the family and gave her the news. "Dispatch wants us to take their statements and compile a report. Do you have a notepad on you?"
"Yep," Sato nodded, pulling out her pen and paper pad.
"I'll go get the cart. You can start with the family. When I get back, I'll talk with those other four."
After a quick direction to the hare and a hasty retreat, the cheetah officer was left alone to manage the situation.
"Sounds easy enough," she shrugged to herself. The story wasn't that difficult to piece together.
Roxanne Wolf, an up-and-coming rockstar from the Happytown area, aged twenty-six, found herself in a stable enough line of work as a furdresser to start a family. In the two days since finalizing the adoption of her nine-year-old son and daughter, Pascal and Veronica, she'd been hard at work scheduling appointments and filing paperwork to enroll them in a public school to continue their education. In the meantime, she elected to bring her new additions to a tech rehearsal for one of her band's shows slated for next Friday. The family was out for lunch when Roxy noticed Veronica was missing.
Roxy blamed a lapse of attentiveness for her shortcomings. She admitted that if not for her inability to immediately recognize Ronni's scent, not to mention the lack of phone or ability to howl, she wasn't confident that she would have found her daughter. When asked why she delayed calling the police for help, she feared the adoption agency would take it as an opportunity to label her unfit to be a parent.
She expressed her gratitude for the wolf detective's expertise in bringing them together and vowed to keep a closer eye on 'the best things to ever happen to her.'
As for the four bystanders who went out of their way to assist in finding Roxanne, it was discovered by the detective that they were all various members of the tech crew that were working on the concert. They recognized who Veronica was and knew something was wrong. Hearing the pair of howls, after gaining 'permission' from Officer Sato, they split up and scoured the streets, eventually locating the she-wolf and reuniting her with her daughter.
An open and shut case for the wolf-cheetah duo.
Once the officers had collected all the required information to compile a proper report, Detective Snow deemed it unnecessary to hold them longer than needed. They were all free to go once their affairs were in order.
Tanaka alluded to Ronni's love for the Pridelands to Roxy before the family had the chance to take their leave. The mother-wolf appreciated the gesture but assured that she was already well aware. In fact, Tanaka learned that Ronni's birthday was right around the corner. Roxanne planned on gifting her child something spectacular—signed copies of the complete box set, even a note from the author himself.
When a baffled Tanaka inquired how she managed to pull off such an extravagant feat, the most she felt inclined to say was 'a friend of a friend of a friend from a town called Babylon Gardens who owed her a favor and knows the author.' Small world.
Veronica weaseled away and asked the detective for a hug as thanks while Tanaka and Roxanne were momentarily preoccupied. Pascal flanked her and followed suit, thanking the officer for saving his sister, and then offered his paw for a shake. Edward awkwardly and reluctantly obliged to both. Veronica vowed to him that she'd be strong. Roxy pulled out her phone and snapped a photo of the adorably wholesome display. Tanaka was too busy cooing over the tender moment.
The two siblings promptly returned to their mother's side, paw-in-paw. Pascal separated and climbed back up the lupine's back and resumed his position. Comfortable, he peered over at Veronica, who'd motioned to have her paw taken by her adoptive mother, which Roxy happily took.
Roxy thanked Detective Snow and Officer Sato again for their diligence and extended a generous offer to reward them for their hard work—a pair of backstage passes. Neither felt compelled to take the wolf up on her offer. She insisted. They eventually succumbed and humbly accepted. At least the date didn't conflict with their work schedule.
Pleasantries sorted, the happy-go-lucky family of three merged with the foot traffic and vacated the premises. The four stage technicians followed loosely behind, the look of gleaming gratification on their maws. The cheetah wished them all nothing but the best.
Tanaka returned to the meter maid cart and surveyed the pair of passes. Garish and colorful, the long and glossy specialty item felt exceptionally ordinary, save for the square scannable quick-response code on the bottom right and the band's logo directly opposite, both stylized with a synth-wave aesthetic.
"The Glamrocks?" She read, planting herself in the passenger seat.
Detective Snow extended an open paw from the driver's side. The feline wasted little time distributing his gift. He gave the object a once-over, front to back.
"Certainly out of their era, I'll give them that," he formulated.
"Should still be a fun getaway."
"If you say so."
The dull lupine banished the pass into the fold of his pleather wallet. Would it be appropriate to bet on whether he'd actually attend? Would he be the same stick in the mud as he was on shift? She'd pay for the opportunity to find that out for herself.
Tanaka took the glossy item into her front breast pocket for another time. She then took a reflective glance back at the rear of the alley and replayed the scenario in the back of her mind. There was nothing that could wipe the smirk off her face. Her first official act as an officer went off without any major hitch. She was ecstatic.
Was there anything that she missed? Could she have done anything differently? She didn't think so? Botched first contact aside, she felt she handled herself well. Tanaka hoped that Ronni would remember her nickname.
Though, it would be criminal not to mention the true star of the show, her superior. Detective Snow was an entirely different breed of officer. Each and every step to further aid Veronica exhumed perfection. The level of expertise displayed embodied everything the ZPD stood for. The way he navigated teaching Veronica how to howl was well beyond exemplary. He managed to appear like he was a decent guy. What more could he have done?
Not yelling at you would be a great start, a thought snarked. It was disregarded. "Not much" was the correct answer.
What's important was that they aided a mammal in distress and got them the help they needed. That's what mattered at the end of the day.
The cheetah spent a few seconds thinking to herself, ruminating over the finer details. Tanaka's insatiable lust for knowledge was winning. She turned back to her superior when something notable piqued her interest.
"Quick question," Tanaka probed.
"Shoot."
"Why didn't you join the howl?"
"Wasn't appropriate," came the simple reply. "When a young wolf loses their pack, others understand not to follow. Whoever they're attempting to hail needs to hear their guardian unobstructed. Roxanne didn't know who I was. At that point, I would just be some mammal getting in the way of a search and rescue. Besides, Ronni's too young to be leading a proper one alone. That comes with time."
"Is that a hierarchy thing for wolves, or something to do with biology?"
"The latter," he answered. "Most wolves stopped following traditional pack roles ages ago. Small minority aside, biological maturity plays a major part. It doesn't make sense for others to follow if the mammal who started it is too young. They wouldn't know what it represents or haven't howled long enough to know how to orchestrate one properly. That's why you didn't hear anybody else."
"Okay, but you're old enough," she argued. "Why not howl with Veronica? I get that the family wouldn't know you, but you could have given Ronni an actual demonstration. It might've helped if she had an example to follow."
"And have every other wolf in the Savannah Central-Downtown area joining that howl?" Edward scoffed. "Even if I could, I'd be instigating a howl that might trigger every wolf in the immediate area. How would we've been able to find that wolf-girl's mother then? Hope and pray? We'd be waiting hours instead of minutes, and then we'd have the Chief on our asses for failing to do our jobs. I'm not working another week of parking duty. You're welcome for that, by the way."
Tanaka couldn't force herself to formulate a rebuttal. Detective Snow's argument was sound. Honestly, that was good enough for her. There was no use wasting energy to find one. She wasn't keen on adding more fuel to that fire.
Snow shoved the key into the ignition and brought their vehicle to life with a twist of his paw. The cheetah's internal gears continued to turn. Silver paws took to the wheel.
"Wait," an innocent thought slipped, "what do you mean, 'even if you could?'"
The whites of the canid's cobalt-colored eyes opened a hair wider. Tanaka saw the stoicism begin to fade into daunted innocence. She got the feeling that she wasn't supposed to catch that.
Claws dug into the rubber of the steering wheel when he drew a steadying breath. Then, exhaled. "I can't," the pair of words tore from his throat.
In her infinite wisdom, she harkened back to how he treated her. "'Can't,' what?"
"I can't howl," he retaliated. Hearing his own bark reverberate against the alley walls, he released his frustrations with a long sigh. "I can't howl. Haven't been able to since I was born."
Tanaka sat back in her seat, failing to mask the empathetic look trained at him, speechless.
"My mom took me to the best speech therapists in the Tri-Burrows. No matter what they did, no matter what we tried, I couldn't do it. Our family's doctor recommended seeing an otolaryngologist—a throat doctor. We saw them, and they confirmed the worst. A neurologist sealed the deal. Came down to bad genetics, I guess."
Officer Sato couldn't repress the unease that tensed on her features. Her paws ticked and fiddled with the cuffs on her shirt.
The shamed detective stole a momentary glance towards Tanaka's direction, then back to the street, pointed ears falling towards his back. The feline sucked in a sharp breath and sat taller in her cart seat, not wanting the detective to jump to any other conclusions.
"Don't go blabbing that around to the others," his masked tone implored. "I know you're friends with Clawhauser. Rumors spread like wildfire with him. I don't need the entire department to know—"
"They won't know," Tanaka calmly stressed. "You seriously think I'm just gonna blab that to anyone I see? It's gonna take me a lot more than a reprimand for me to stoop that low. Trust me, you don't have to worry about that," she attempted to ensure.
Edward didn't look convinced, which was fair. Unintentionally strong-arming your colleague into revealing what might potentially be one of his deepest insecurities will do that.
"I shouldn't have been prying so much," she admitted. "Curiosity, what can I say? Cats like me can't help ourselves." Her jesting didn't do well to garner a positive reaction. Knowing him, he could have assumed that she was insulting him or making excuses. Sincerity became her last resort. "I would never aim to intentionally hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable. I'm sorry for putting you in that position. Your secret's safe with me. I promise."
Seconds of silence passed. Not a word escaped the lupine's lips. Tanaka would have given anything for him to believe her. Nothing indicated that the wolf didn't appreciate the olive branch, but she was confident her efforts did nothing to resolve the tension. That door was firmly shut.
How is it that no matter what you do or say to him, you end up fucking up? She kicked herself.
Edward put the cart into gear, and their vehicle crawled out of the alley and into the light.
Say goodbye to your job, Sato.
O O O
Wednesday and Thursday came and went with little fanfare. Tundratown was cold beyond belief, the Meadowlands was ridden with dense fog that threatened to veer the wolf-cheetah duo off the road at times, and the Rainforest District doused them with enough artificial rain to fill several Olympic-sized swimming pools.
The first two-thirds of their route was manageable—covering the bulk of the meters that required tending. Tanaka could handle a bit of snow and fog. The rain was another story. Everyone on the planet knows that cats and water seldom mix. She, being a cat herself, despised the rain. The way it mixed and matted her fur, the cold dampness that wrought shivers down her spine, and the sticky humidity that made her ZPD-branded weather jacket insufferable, she regretted not flunking out of the academy while she had the chance. But that was nothing compared to the mammal she had the pleasure of calling her partner.
Tanaka did what she could to keep spirits up between her and Detective Snow after what happened on Tuesday, but he wouldn't budge. He again refused to humor any topic that fell outside their job's purview. Those who raised legitimate concerns during passing were relegated to other officers on duty, barring them from having a similar interaction as they did with the Wolfs. At some point, she stopped trying.
What was the point? Edward would have mentioned the beginning of her overzealous encounter in his report, effectively throwing her under the bus. That information would go directly to the Chief, and she would be out of a job at or before next Sunday. The most she could do now was retain enough information to reapply elsewhere. Bunnyburrow wasn't a terrible option. Rent for an apartment was cheap compared to the city, and she'd have to move out, but it wasn't beyond her scope. They might need an officer—who knows?
Tanaka pushed open the door to Precinct One's lobby and waltzed inside by her lonesome. She and Edward split up during the train ride back to Savannah Central. He'd stepped off at the old university station. Apparently, the Chief clocked him out per his request—not suspicious at all. Nonetheless, she'd wished him a great weekend. Even if Edward did not wish to reciprocate the gesture when he exited the train car, it put her at ease. The comfort the wolf must have felt was to get a headstart on his weekend's plans away from her prying eyes.
Behind the curved reception desk was the large spotted form of Clawhauser. He clocked her in a heartbeat and greeted her with an overzealous smile. "Hey, Tani!"
"Hey, Benni," Tanaka smiled back. She hoped that her less-than-enthusiastic tone went unnoticed. "Anything interesting happen today?"
"Not really, just waiting for Officer Mabel to clock in, and I'll be heading home." Clawhauser beamed, transferring his Gazelle memorabilia from the desk and into some drawer. "How was your first week? I bet you can't wait to start your weekend."
"Like you wouldn't believe," Tanaka sighed. "But it wasn't terrible. Detective Snow's a great officer, and I learned a ton, but I think I'm ready to get away and finally relax. My legs are killing me from all that walking."
"That was me after my first week. I couldn't feel my feet by the end. You should've seen me clawing my way through the door." They chuckled. Suddenly, he paused and let out an audible gasp. "I forgot to text you! Did you hear the news?"
"What news?"
"Gazelle just teased her new tour!" Ben giddily stamped. "Like, what?!"
"That's awesome news," her lackadaisical self forced. Flashbacks from the last concert wrought warranted shivers down her spine. Too much traffic. "Did they announce any dates? 'Cause if she's planning on taking over ZCP again, I think I ought to be the one to break the news to my family."
"Nothing's solid yet. I hear Gazelle's planning on making an announcement sometime next month. I just so happen to know someone at Animallia Stadium who's certain she'll perform there."
"If that's true, that'll be a relief," Tanaka sighed. "Last time Gazelle was here, it felt like I'd been through war."
"You think that's bad? Try being a cop during that." The pair of cheetahs shared another laugh. "Seriously, we should all try and go together!"
"We should," She parroted. "Speaking of, you should totally invite the Chief. I'm sure Uncle Adrian would appreciate the time away from his desk. That reminds me, when are you two gonna—"
"Oh, would you look at the time!" Clawhauser deflected. Tanaka knowingly smirked and rolled her eyes. Of course, he would blame it on— "Dinner isn't going to cook itself."
She played along. "What'cha having good?"
"Fried fish tacos," he answered.
Tanaka could feel her mouth salivating at the thought. That sounded lovely. It reminded Tanaka that she hadn't eaten much—or taken a proper break—thanks to the melancholic snow, mist, rain, and Snow. Too much going on. Thankfully, her family should have something waiting for her. What that something was was up in the air.
"That sounds so good. Now you're making me hungry," Tanaka laughed under her breath. "Go enjoy your dinner, Benni." She lightly pounded the top of the reception desk, winked, and started towards the time-clocks. She waved, "Have a great night!"
"Have a great weekend, Tanaka!" Clawhauser waved back. Tanaka made it a few steps forward before hearing another gasp behind her. He muttered a "Shoot" under his breath and said, "Hey, Tanaka!" She turned back. "The Chief wanted to see you before you left."
And there it was. Tanaka hoped she disguised her apprehension well enough.
"Did he say what for?"
"I was hoping you knew."
"Well, that's totally not suspicious at all. I guess I'll find out when I get there. Thank you, Benni," Tanaka nodded, then turned and took her leave.
"No problem! See you on Sunday, Tani!"
No, you won't, the truth slipped from her subconscious. Clawhauser was none the wiser as she slipped away.
This was it. There was nothing more Tanaka could do. So much for an illustrious career in law enforcement. How would she tell her parents?
Arriving at the elevator bank, Tanaka found the first empty elevator cabin and waltzed inside. Only when it began the ascent to the top offices did she feel the dread start to settle in.
The glum cheetah fought back tears. Tanaka wasn't ready. She didn't want her dream to die. Precinct One was her second home. At least, she thought it was. Did she deserve to be amongst the giants? Maybe she gave herself too much credit?
She puffed out her chest, adjusted her badge in the vague reflection of the doors, and made herself presentable. At least she'd still have a shred of dignity in the end.
Officer Sato heard the elevator ding and motioned to stride out right when the doors opened, armed with resolution. That was until she nearly drop-kicked the incoming Detective Hopps across the hall. She couldn't catch a break, could she?
Luckily for Tanaka, the lapine was faster.
Officer Hopps swore a farmer's swear and scurried past the spotted foot, ducking towards the empty space to the right. The cheetah, meanwhile, was unable to do more than brace herself and haphazardly stumbled back a step between the doors of the elevator cabin. Natural order resumed once both mammals found their footing. Hopps was the first to break the uncomfortable silence.
"I am so sorry," the bunny stressed. "I should've been looking where I was going. Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Tanaka nodded, shuffling her way past the rabbit and out of the cabin. She struggled to muster the courage to look her in the eye. Of all mammals, the last thing she wanted was to disappoint one of her idols. How unfortunate that lying became her last resort. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"Boy, you sure know how to make an entrance, Carrots," Officer Wilde smirked, flanking the rabbit's left side. "At least it was a smaller foot this time."
"That was one time, Slick," she frowned.
"Oh, contraire," he grinned. "I think that little stampede Downtown last year begs to differ."
"You know, funny you should mention that," she said, popping her hip. "I thought I heard the Chief mention something about that the other day. Turns out they're still looking for leads. Weren't you the one messing around with your baton when it 'slipped?'"
Grin sly and brows raised, she looked poised for her partner to retort.
"Doesn't ring any bells to me."
"That's what I thought," the bunny boasted. She turned to the cheetah. "Officer Sato, right?" Tanaka nodded. "I wanted to see you after you got your assignment, but Chief Bogo wanted us to head out right after roll call. I'm sorry I couldn't meet up sooner."
"It's no problem. You both had your paws full. Finding those rams and stopping the attacks take priority. But, if it's any consolation, I already know who you are, Officer Hopps," Tanaka said, trying her best not to gush too hard. "You're highly regarded at the academy—same goes for you too, Officer Wilde." The vulpine looked surprised. Hopps looked proud. "Couldn't go a day without either of you being mentioned by Major Friedkin. You guys were—well, are —the baseline. And considering everything you two have done, I don't think it'll be necessary."
"Oh, please," the lapine insisted, "chivalry isn't dead yet. So long as we're on the same team, it'll always be necessary." Hopps extended a paw. "Call me Judy."
The feline didn't hesitate to reciprocate the gesture, both mammals giving a strong shake of their paws. There was no hiding the beam on her muzzle. "Tanaka."
"Name's Nick," the vulpine followed, the two sharing a pawshake of their own, "don't wear it out, Spots."
"Spots?"
"Don't mind him. He does that with everyone," the rabbit quickly followed with a nervous giggle. She glared momentarily at her partner before saying, "If that's not your thing, we'll use 'Tanaka' instead."
"No, it's okay," the cheetah shook her head. "I don't mind at all." Tanaka willed a smile at Officer Wilde. "It's a great nickname."
"See, Carrots?" the fox crossed his arms. "At least she has good taste." Judy simply rolled her eyes. Tanaka sniggered to herself. "Flattery aside, what's got you up in the penthouse, Spots? Aren't you supposed to be clocking out right about now?"
Damn.
An abashed Tanaka felt heat flush into her cheeks. The truth mumbled its way out of her eventually. "I was planning to, but Chief Bogo wanted to see me before I left for the weekend."
"Figures. Chief loves springing surprises. He's been doing that to Hopps for a few months now. Any idea why he's bringing you in?"
"Yeah. I think I do," the cheetah sighed. "It may or may not be related to the report we had to file on Tuesday."
"Huh. That's funny," Judy smirked. "The Chief and I were going over that just now."
"Really? - Seriously?" Tanaka and Nick spoke over one another. The feline felt her heart sink into her chest. The vulpine wanted more and raised, "That's what you were in there for?"
"Yep!" the lagomorph drew a toothy grin. "Just needed to go over a few details before we left. I gotta say, you handled yourself well out there, Tanaka."
"But I didn't do anything," the feline admitted. "Edward's the one who did all the work and tracked down Roxanne."
"That might be true, but you were the one to stop the cart in the first place," she pointed out. "If you hadn't, who knows what could've happened to her daughter? It's our job to keep our eyes and ears open and remain vigilant. In my book, you did exactly that."
"I know, but—"
"'But' nothing. You did great. Think of it this way: At least you didn't tear the city apart like I did." Tanaka couldn't help the tug on the corner of her maw. "Don't think about what you could've done. Think about the good you did. You made a difference. Give yourself that."
You should seriously consider taking her advice, the voice of reason in her head seconded. Tanaka still didn't feel the least bit deserving.
"I'll try," expressed the reluctant rookie.
"That's all we can do," the rabbit detective nodded.
Behind the feline, an elevator chimed open.
"That's our ride," Nick said, maneuvering between the pair to hold the doors open. "Best not keep her waiting any longer. What do you say, Carrots?"
"I'd say that you're thinking with your stomach."
"Madam," the vulpine took with mock offense, "I'll have you know that despite us working our tails off all day, I'm the pinnacle of self-control. To think I'd let something so trivial as hunger—"
That's when Nick's stomach betrayed him.
Judy donned a smug look. "So what you meant to say is that 'I'm right?'"
"You are. One hundred percent."
The rabbit snickered and celebrated her small victory with a knowing grin. When Judy motioned to leave and stopped in the middle of the cabin, her memory jolted.
"Carrot sticks," she swore under her breath. Wilde barely caught the doors in time. "Have Wolford or Fangmeyer ever mentioned O'Hares to you by chance?"
Tanaka shook her head. She knew of it, of course; an iconic pub near Savannah Central Park is hard to miss if you lived in the city long enough.
"Then I guess it's up to me to invite you!"
"Invite me to what?"
"The department's monthly outing," she answered matter-of-factly. "On the third Wednesday of every month, we go out to O'Hares and, well, hang out! Nothing official, of course—Chief Bogo won't be there—but it's a chance for us officers to bond outside the office. It's a tradition that's been kept since before I was hired. It's super fun, plus we get a discount on everything. You think you might be interested?"
"Oh. I… uh…" Tanaka hesitated.
Given how she struggled to believe the rabbit, she didn't want to give anyone false promises.
"Don't think that we need an answer right this second," Judy rectified, picking up on the latency. "There's no pressure on going if you can't. Plenty of others are in that same boat, too. Just think about it, okay? I'm sure the others would love it if you stopped by." The lagomorph insisted. Nick took a step back from the door after a quick nudge. Judy waved to her. "Have a great weekend, Tanaka."
"See you next week, Spots," the reynard bid farewell, giving a mock two-finger salute before the doors slid shut.
The cheetah stood in front of the closed elevator bay in silence, failing to find solace in Judy's words. How could they be so certain she'd still be there on Sunday?
Tanaka didn't care who Detective Hopps talked to; the Mayor, the Chief, it didn't matter. Until she heard directly from Bogo, she wouldn't dare keep her hopes up. She wanted to believe her. But she couldn't. Not when her dream was on the line.
She promptly departed from the elevator bank and began her final approach toward her Uncle's office.
"They bicker like an old married couple," the spotted cat grumbled to herself.