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Nick is in a rare mood, it's safe to say.
Glowing is perhaps the best way to describe it.
He's still riding an emotional high from the night prior, when his now-mate dragged him out of her parents' warren in the middle of the night to go stargazing with the ultimate intention of claiming him as her own—The final, succulent cherry atop the relationship sundae that the two had been building together.
Despite how far they'd come as a couple, despite all of the I love you's, and the countless kisses, and the late nights spent coiled in bed together at their most intimate and vulnerable, a festering kernel of doubt had lingered in the back of the fox's mind—A primal fear of abandonment that left him utterly petrified by the notion of giving himself wholly to the doe. She could crush his heart in an instant if she so wished, just as others have done to him in the past. It would be trivial for her to do so, and he'd have no defense against it. But he had ultimately decided that it was worth it. Worth the leap of faith. He chose to hand his heart over to the bunny, clinging to nothing but his trust in her. Trust that she wouldn't leave him. Trust that their love was real.
Well, after last night, that doubt had been utterly vaporized from his mind. He was hers and she was his, and that's all there was to it. No asterisks or stipulations in sight. Straightforward and simple.
Frankly, her love for him was so fierce and all-encompassing that he felt like his heart would burst in its attempts to contain it all. The excess oozed out of him in the form of big, embarrassing smiles at the mere sight of her, warm, fuzzy daydreams in her absence, and an incessant desire to be in close proximity of the bunny at every waking moment. Hell, at every unwaking moment, too.
Thankfully, Judy hardly minded. Quite the opposite, in fact—She stuck to him like glue, her wandering paws always keen to fetch his own, or to stroke his tail, or to coil themselves around his torso and squeeze him so tightly that the fox could be mistaken for assuming that the bunny was trying her damndest to make their bodies occupy the same exact physical space.
In all honesty, Nick's sudden, ravenous desire for affection was only partly due to Judy's fulfillment of the canine courtship ritual. His hunger for her had only grown since that night thanks to the many, many prying eyes in the Hopps family warren ensuring that the two mammals keep their paws (and other body parts) to themselves. Even in the privacy of their guest bedroom, the walls were rather thin and the door had no lock to speak of, which discouraged the two from allowing their more base and natural desires to take hold of them, lest an innocent pair of eyes or ears catch them in the act.
It drove the fox crazy. Like an itch he couldn't scratch. By the time the two were packing up to head back to the city, the tod found that, as much as he wanted to spend more time with his newfound farm-bunny family, his desire for some proper alone time with his mate all but compelled him to leave.
It was that thought in particular that lingered in the back of the predator's mind during the long drive home. He was still on medical leave, and Judy still had another day or two of PTO loaded into the cannon. That probably gave them just enough time to work the most frenzied of their feelings out of their systems before the bunny had to return to work... If not, well... He was certain he could talk his way into getting her to play hooky.
The tod is violently shaken from his thoughts as their police cruiser suddenly swerves on the road. Nick's head snaps to his partner in the driver's seat, who flashes him an embarrassed-looking expression.
"Sorry. Road's a bit more icy than I was expecting," she tells him.
Indeed, a cursory glance out the front windshield reveals a frigid, winter wonderland the likes of which the fox hasn't seen outside of Tundratown. The temperature had been plummeting all day long, culminating in a gentle snowfall just as the two mammals were saying their goodbyes and setting off from Bunnyburrow. Well, a couple of hours into the drive, just as the sun was starting to sink below the horizon, the snow storm had graduated to a full-on blizzard, reducing visibility ahead to nearly zero and blanketing the roadways in a thick layer of slippery snow.
A green 'WELCOME TO—' road sign emerges from the milky white haze and zips past them before Nick can fully read the text, and a frown creases the fox's muzzle for the first time since the night prior.
"...How about we pull over somewhere for the night and wait out the storm?" he suggests.
"We're alright, slick," the bunny assures him while squinting at the view through the windshield. Between the blinding snow storm snuffing out the headlights and the encroaching darkness of night, Nick can hardly see past the hood of the car, let alone down the treacherous road ahead. The doe flashes her partner a smirk and says, "Need I remind you of my perfect driving record at—?"
No sooner do the words leave her lips than the cruiser's wheels lose traction once more. This time, however, the bunny struggles to recover the vehicle, and the slippery swerve suddenly graduates to a full-on slide. Nick only has a fraction of a second to brace himself before the cabin suddenly pitches forward, the massive vehicle careening into the low drainage ditch on the side of the road. The windshield is quickly buried under a veritable wave of slushing, powdery snow, casting the already dim cabin into near-total darkness. A moment of eerie silence follows as the cruiser's hulking frame settles into its final resting place, its powerful V8 engine rather lamely sputtering out.
"Cripes!" Nick breathes while clutching his chest, his voice cutting through the deathly silence. His head quickly snaps in Judy's direction. "You alright?!"
"Y-Yeah..." the doe retorts meekly, nose twitching and paws still white-knuckling the steering wheel. "Yeah... Y-You?"
The fox's ears twitch as the violent howl of icy winds buffeting the cruiser come more readily to the forefront of his attention.
"I'm... Alright, I think," the tod mumbles. He presses his head back into his seat and lets out a sigh of relief. "...What was that about your perfect driving record?"
Judy doesn't answer, a guilt-stricken, embarrassed-looking expression smeared plainly across her features. The doe turns the key in an attempt to get the engine started once again, and to their mutual surprise, it roars back to life on the first try. With a hopeful smile, the bunny shifts the vehicle into reverse and presses down on the pedal, only for her ears to perk at the telltale sound of the tires failing to find traction.
"...Great," she huffs.
"So... Stuck?" the fox quietly questions despite already knowing the answer. "Bummer... Shall I get out and push?"
Despite her look of defeat, the predator's suggestion manages to steal a giggle from the bunny. Even if the SUV didn't weigh something in the order of six thousand pounds, Nick was still recovering from his injuries. He could hardly push her around, let alone a half-buried vehicle.
With a quiet sigh, Judy fetches her cell phone, hoping to call for help, only to curse under her breath when the device so helpfully informs her that she's outside of carrier range.
"Hey, do you have any bars?"
Nick checks his phone as well, though he knew there was little point. If the bunny's modern smart device wasn't receiving a signal, there was no chance in hell that his dinky old flip phone was getting anything...
Sure enough, "...Nope, no signal."
Judy presses her forehead into the steering wheel and closes her eyes, her ears falling limp.
"Sorry, slick..." she mutters.
"Hey, don't apologize to me, apologize to the three tons of turf you just excavated," the tod retorts lightheartedly. When his partner doesn't offer any sort of reaction, Nick reaches across the center console and rubs at the bunny's shoulder. "Seriously, fluff, relax. We're both fine. Let's just wait out the storm and find some help when it calms down a bit out there. We should have plenty of fuel to keep the heater going.
Just then, almost as if to spite the tod, the engine of the car coughs and sputters out once more. Judy tries the key to get it started again—Once, twice, three times... Nothing.
The bunny drops her paw with a frustrated huff.
"...Right, well... No need to panic," she grumbles.
"I'm not," Nick assures the doe. "Listen, we passed a road sign for some podunk little village a couple minutes ago. How about we head into town and try to find a phone."
"On foot?" the bunny asks, sparing the predator a glance.
"Unless you have a better idea," the fox nods.
Judy's nose twitches and her eyes flick down to the cane resting in the footwell in front of the tod. "No, I mean... Are you gonna be good to walk?"
"Mm. First of all—how dare you," he quips lightheartedly. He can't imagine that making the hike in the dark and the cold will be particularly fun, but it sure beats freezing to death... "I'll manage. Hell, why don't we just try to track down a hotel or something? I don't think we'll be getting home any time soon in this storm, fluff."
Judy offers a reluctant nod and moves to unfasten her seatbelt.
The two decide to pack light, opting to bring only the most critical supplies with them for the hike: Phones, wallets, a couple of bottles of water, a single change of clothes, and a few snacks, just in case. Judy goes one step further and fetches a flare and a utility knife from the back of the SUV, while Nick digs his partner's puffy winterwear out of her suitcase. The fox can afford to skip a few layers thanks to his thicker, natural winter coat, but he knew Judy would freeze like a pawpsicle if she didn't take the proper precautions—Knit hat, ear warmers, scarf, and a big, fluffy jacket. She didn't have much in the way of snow pants, so the tod convinced her to throw a second pair of jeans on over the ones she was already wearing, just to be safe.
The fact that the entire cabin of the car was pitched forward into the roadside ditch made suiting up for the cold weather a tad more difficult than it needed to be, but the two managed to finish their preparations all the same. After double-checking her supplies, Judy zips up her backpack and looks to her partner with a hesitant expression.
"You ready?"
Nick fetches his cane from the wheel well and gives the bunny a nod. "As I'll ever be."
The two mammals exit through the rear of the SUV, and the furious, icy wind that greets them bites like a million tiny needles. Even Nick is shocked by how readily the cold cuts through his outer layers. If he's cold, his partner isn't going to last too long out here...
With that in mind, Nick digs the claws of his foot-paws into the icy roadway and pushes Judy along, using his cane for support as he battles against the howling gale. The bunny makes her best effort to walk under her own power, but had the fox not coiled one of his arms around her as they marched along, it's likely that the smaller mammal would have gotten swept away by the wind. Despite the icy deluge stinging his eyes, and the ache in his shoulder and hip protesting the effort, Nick grits his teeth and powers forward, doing his best to shield his partner from the brunt of the storm with his arms and tail.
Thankfully, the fox manages to spy the road sign in question through the all-consuming darkness, along with a small side road that seems to head off into the hills. Squinting, the predator takes note of pale, yellow dots up amidst the trees—Likely the windows of residences or businesses of whatever little village they've stumbled into.
Feeling icicles beginning to form on his tail, Nick finds that he has little desire to walk the extra hundred meters necessary to read the road sign from the opposite side. Instead, he stows his cane in the straps of his backpack and scoops his partner up into his arms, all but carrying the bunny bridal-style up the snow-covered side street, desperately scanning the path ahead for any sign of help.
Dull, brick and mortar buildings begin to emerge through the blinding blizzard; shops lining either side of the street. Every single one of them has their lights off—Some even having their windows and doors boarded up, almost giving the fox the impression that the town had been abandoned. With no buildings to duck into or payphones in sight, the tod opts to slide into the alley between two of the stores, seeking a brief respite from the biting wind.
Once out of the worst of the gale, he loosens his grip on his partner, who flashes the fox a thankful smile through chattering teeth. The doe opts to tug her phone out once more and frowns at the screen.
"Still no signal," she tells him.
"You rabbits need to invest in cell towers," Nick grumbles. "This isn't the middle ages any more."
The fox's nostrils flare, catching a whiff of something in the air—Something burning.
"I smell a wood fire," he tells his partner. "We're downwind of somebody."
"Should we check it out?" the bunny asks.
"As long as you don't freeze to death," the tod retorts, giving the smaller mammal a scrutinizing gaze.
"I'll survive a little while longer. Just gotta keep my ears warm," she tells him.
The fox nods and helps his partner tuck her long, floppy appendages down into the collar of her coat, hoping to fend off the worst of the cold. Again, he plucks the bunny up off the ground and takes off into the storm, this time focusing on his keen sense of smell to guide his way.
The predator follows the sweet scent of burning wood past the center of the village, and then along a narrow side street, which winds its way up the side of a densely-forested hill. Near the top, the trees give way to a clearing, and the tod balks at the sight that he's greeted with: An expansive, old building, castle-like in appearance, with grey brick cladding and a red, steepled roof. It was four stories high at its tallest point and sported dozens of glowing windows across its wide façade. The numerous chimneys protruding from its tiled roof puff with pale, grey smoke—A sign that somebody was home and that help was available.
Nick presses on, forcing himself up the gravel driveway until he'd reached the short flight of stairs leading up to the towering double-door entrance. It's not until he's nearly upon the door that he takes note of the gilded text above the doorway:
The Grand Renard Hotel
"Oh, thank Mother Nature," the fox mumbles at his good fortune.
He pushes his way through the wooden doors, nearly collapsing upon entering the warmth of the lobby. The howl of the wind is promptly cut off as the doors swing shut behind him, and Nick cautiously deposits his nearly-frozen partner onto the white marble flooring, taking the opportunity to give her a once-over.
The few sections of her fur still exposed to the elements are crusted over with a thin layer of ice, but if the thankful, loving smile she spares him as her feet touch the ground is anything to go by, he did a halfway-decent job of keeping her warm.
"You alright?" he asks, just to be safe.
"Y-Yeah, j-j-just need to.... W-W-Warm up," the bunny manages.
Nick tilts his chin upwards to examine the lobby of the hotel, and quickly spots a roaring fireplace on the opposite side of the room from the receptionist's desk. Judy follows her partner's gaze and practically scrambles over to the warmth of the fire when she takes note of it as well. The fox follows her at a more reserved pace, dusting the snow off of his jacket and shaking the worst of the ice out of his tail.
Taking a breath of relief, the fox quirks an eyebrow at a familiar, musky smell.
"...Well, well, well..." comes the withered voice of an elderly female. "Back so soon...?"
Nick follows the voice to the receptionist's desk, where he finds an arctic fox seated alone. The aging vixen has her eyes on her work, cautiously scribbling something with a fountain pen into a thickly-bound journal.
Nick shares a glance with his mate, the doe having heard the question as well.
"...I'm sorry?" Judy asks after a beat.
The vixen turns her gaze upwards to regard the rabbit through the small, circular spectacles adorning the bridge of her nose, and a look of surprise overtakes her features a moment later.
"...Oh! I'm sorry dear. You look just like the last little bunny that came through here..." she says with a toothy, predatory smile. "Oh, my mate will love you."
Nick clears his throat and moves closer to the receptionist's desk. "Evening ma'am. I don't suppose you have a room we could rent for the night?"
The vixen looks to the tod with a twinkle in her eye. "We always have space available for handsome gentlefoxes such as yourself."
"Ah, well..." Nick clears his throat, somewhat taken aback. He reaches for his backpack to fetch his wallet and says, "I don't know what your rates are in a swanky place like this, but—"
"On the house, dear."
Nick frowns, freezing in place. "...Really?"
Foxes don't give anything away for free, especially not to other foxes. Not without a catch, at least.
"Oh, I can tell you two have gone through hell and back just to get here. We'd be more than happy to accommodate you." The arctic fox adjusts her glasses while scanning over her guest ledger, muttering, "Yes, storms like these have a way of bringing wayward souls right to where they need to be..." Apparently finding what she was looking for, the old receptionist digs an ancient-looking brass key out of her desk and offers it to Nick, who accepts it with a hesitant paw. The vixen's eyes light up, as if realizing something, and she says, "In fact, why don't you join us in the dining hall for supper? The kitchen will be closing soon, and you two look absolutely famished."
Nick cranes his neck around to regard his partner, who he finds is practically roasting her ears over the flames of the fire.
Poor thing.
"I could eat," Judy says with a meager smile.
Nick, as well. Suppertime aside, the hike did take a lot out of him.
"Through those doors and down the hall. Feel free to sit anywhere," the arctic fox tells them.
Nick offers the old vixen a thankful nod and pockets the key, and the cross-species couple heads for the doors as instructed.
~ // ~
"...Cripes, look at this place!" Judy comments as they walk.
Indeed, now that the fox is out of survival mode, he can take a moment to better appreciate their surroundings. The Grand Renard is seemingly just as lavish as the Palm Hotel back in Zootopia, though Nick gets the impression that this particular building has been around for a lot longer. The sides of the hallway are lined with a never-ending menagerie of historical artifacts, from oil paintings depicting the hotel itself at various points in history, to marble statues and busts of various foxes, to full suits of armor on stands flaking the sides of the doorways that they pass. The wooden floor beneath the red carpet creaks and groans as they plod along, echoing off of the stone walls of the otherwise silent corridor.
As impressive as it all is, Nick finds himself rather befuddled that they'd managed to stumble upon a place like this, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, right when they needed it most...
The two pass through another set of wooden doors into a rather expansive-looking dining hall. Most of the room is illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight, and a quick scan reveals that only a few other mammals are dotted about inside.
All foxes, Nick observes with a curious eye.
'Where on earth are we?' he thinks.
Nick follows his partner as the bunny meanders towards one of the open tables, his ears quirking at the somber notes of a piano pouring from speakers built into the ceiling overhead. The doe tugs off most of her heavy winterwear and sinks into the open chair with a heavy sigh.
"...You warm enough?" the tod questions as he works his way out of his own jacket.
"I'll be alright," she assures her mate. The doe manages a tired smile for the fox when he finally settles into the seat across from her. "...Hey, we made it."
Nick huffs in amusement and reclines into his chair, having to fight back the sudden onset of a yawn. "Got a little dicey there for a minute or two."
"It did," Judy hums. Ears falling limp, a frown tugs at the corner of her muzzle, and she mumbles, "...Sorry about the car, Nick. I guess I lost my focus."
"Eh, hardly your fault, fluff. We shouldn't have been on the road in those conditions, anyway," he tells her. "I'm sure we'll be able to find someone to help us tow the damn thing out of the ditch tomorrow."
Judy offers a small nod only to raise an eyebrow when something of interest catches her eye behind him. The tod follows her gaze and finds that quite a few of the other foxes in the room are staring at them. Actually, at her...
"...They look like they want to make a meal out of me," Judy whispers with an awkward smile.
"Well, you are delicious," Nick mutters in return. He turns his gaze back to her, asking, "...You want me to tell 'em to mind their own business?"
"No, it's fine, slick," she assures him with a loving smile. The bunny tugs out her phone, only to let out a frustrated huff when she's once again greeted with a no signal warning. "...I wish I could at least figure out where we are..."
"...I take it that means you've never heard of this place?" the fox questions.
"This clearly isn't exactly my neck of the woods," the doe tells him under her breath while tilting her head in the direction of the other foxes in the room. She peers down at her phone in thought, muttering, "Maybe we took a wrong turn, somewhere..."
"We?" Nick asks with a playful smile.
Judy rolls her eyes but cracks a meager smile all the same.
"What about you?" she asks. "You wouldn't happen to know about any fox villages or communes outside of the city, would you?"
Nick smirks at that. "Yes, this is the motherland, where all of the foxes in the world come from. When we're born, they package us up into little crates and distribute us far and wide to sew chaos across the land. And now I've finally returned home, prodigal as I may be." Judy just stares at her partner with a nonplussed expression, prompting the tod to say, "Look, I know a lot of mammals from a lot of different places, fluff, but my network doesn't quite stretch out this far..."
"Right," the bunny mumbles.
Both mammals suddenly jolt in surprise as two dishes of food are set down in front of them.
"Good evening, my friends!" a low voice chimes.
Nick cranes his neck back to find another arctic fox standing over them—The receptionist's mate, perhaps. He wears an apron around his neck, which does little to contain his excessively poofy, white winter coat from poking out around the edges of the fabric.
"Oh! Uh, we didn't order anything yet," Judy tells the predator while staring down at the salad that had been placed in front of her.
"It's a limited menu, my dear. A vegetarian option for you, and something with more protein for your carnivorous friend, here."
"...I've been known to eat green things on occasion," Nick protests weakly as he peers down at his own meal, a chunky-looking stew. With a cursory glance, he finds bits of vegetable, potato, and a meat of some kind floating around in its otherwise soupy, brown confines. It does, admittedly, smell delicious. "...Uh, what is it?"
"Daily special," the arctic fox says with a mischievous smile. Glancing between the two, he asks, "Wine?"
"Water," Nick and Judy say in unison.
"In fact, leave us a pitcher, we had a long hike to get here," Nick adds.
"Looks like it," the other tod quips with a knowing smile. His eyes slide back over to the bunny, taking note of the many layers of outerwear that she had haphazardly hung over or otherwise piled atop one of the other open chairs nearby. Leaning in her direction, the arctic fox says, "I generally prefer my food fresh, never frozen."
Judy lets out a giggle, but Nick finds the joke decidedly less funny...
"Where did you two drift in from?" the arctic fox questions.
"Bunnyburrow. But we're headed for Zootopia."
"Ah. I suspected as much. There aren't many cross-species couples around these parts."
Nick and Judy share a glance, both rather surprised that the arctic fox had so readily pegged them as an item. For most mammals, a fox and a bunny being an item is so outside the realm of possibility that it's effectively inconceivable.
Still, neither of the seated mammals makes any effort to protest the notion, leaving the arctic fox to say, "Give me a minute and I'll be back with your drinks."
Nick tracks the other predator with his eyes as he leaves, prompting his partner to ask, "What's up?"
"...He's just a bit of a weirdo, is all," the tod mumbles. "Got a weird vibe from the receptionist, too."
"That's just how mammals are out in the boonies, slick," the bunny says while fetching her fork. She wastes little time and tucks into her meal, and Nick follows suit a few moments later.
The first bite that touches the fox's tongue is almost overwhelming, like an explosion of flavor in his mouth. It's the most succulent, most savory thing he's ever tasted. Sweet and spicy and fatty and herbal, flooding his body with a warmth and comfort that he didn't realize he had been craving.
"Oh wow..." he groans through the mouthful of stew.
"Good?" his partner guesses, her ears twitching with amusement.
Nick swallows his bite and stares down at the bowl, muttering, "This is... I mean, I'd tell you to try this, but I'm not sure your little bunny belly would agree with it."
"Yeah, hard pass, I think," Judy smiles.
The fox pokes around the bowl with his fork, examining all of the little chunks floating around. Whatever the meat is, it's so tender it literally melts in his mouth. It doesn't taste like chicken, and doesn't have the texture of an insect substitute...
"I don't know what this is, but it's the best thing I've ever put into my mouth," the tod comments.
Judy snickers at that, saying, "I'd make a joke but I'm too tired to think of one..."
The arctic fox returns a few moments later with two empty glasses and a pitcher of water, filling them both up before placing the half-empty pitcher down in the center of their table.
Judy takes the opportunity to clear her throat, asking, "Excuse me, sir. You mentioned that there aren't many cross-species couples around here... Where, exactly is here? Neither of us can get reception on our cell phones."
"Eh, I'd imagine the telecom tower on top of the mountain is properly iced-over by now," the arctic fox considers. "This is the Grand Renard Hotel in the village of Foxwood." Nick's ears twitch and his tail stiffens at the mention of the name. "You're about a hundred miles south of Zootopia, if it makes any difference to you."
"...Cripes, maybe I have heard of this place," Nick mumbles.
"That wouldn't surprise me," the arctic fox tells him. "We've become a bit of a tourist trap as of late."
Judy cocks her head with a curious expression. "Why's that?"
"Well, the hotel has a long and storied history. Murders, disappearances, reports of paranormal activity... This building was constructed on the site of an ancient vulpine longhouse. In fact, this entire area used to be a well-known hunting ground for foxes. It was one of the last holdouts of proper predation in modern history, even past the signing of the Pred-Prey Accords. Lots of poor little creatures such as yourself were gobbled up by hungry predators like your friend over here."
"Alright, no need to scare the lady, pal," Nick nearly growls, his ears flattening.
"It's alright, Nick," Judy assures her partner. "It's kind of interesting, actually. It just makes the fact that we all live in peace together now all the more incredible!"
"Sweet little thing. I could just eat you up," the arctic fox chuckles. "I do hope we'll be having you for breakfast, little miss."
Judy titters at that. "I think you most certainly will, mister...?"
"Fang. Chef Furson Fang. And the lovely vixen in reception is my mate, Maribelle."
The bunny nods, and with a cheeky smile, says, "And I'm Judy, and this is my mate, Nick."
"Charmed," the chef says with a curt bow. He looks to the bunny once more, saying, "We have a landline telephone over in reception, should you need to make a call."
"Not tonight, I don't think, but we might need to recruit someone with a tow truck tomorrow morning," the doe tells him sheepishly.
"...Ah, I see," the arctic fox says grimly, the implication clear. "Well, my mate and I can certainly assist you in that department once you're up and about tomorrow. In the meantime, enjoy your meals, and holler if you need anything."
This time, Judy watches the predator leave for a beat before looking to Nick with a conspiratorial expression.
"How come your winter coat never gets that... Spherical?"
"Species difference, mostly," Nick answers after taking a sip of his water. He smirks at the doe, asking, "Why, do you need me even more friend-shaped?"
"I like fluffy things, alright?" the bunny mutters self-consciously, her ears taking on a twinge of pink.
"Noted," the fox smiles.
The two take to their meals again, though Judy spares her partner a glance after a few minutes of quiet chewing.
"...So... You have heard of this place?" the bunny asks while picking at her salad.
Nick bobs his head from side to side, rather reluctantly admitting, "I saw it on one of those ghost adventures TV shows..."
The bunny's violet eyes flick in her partner's direction, a glimmer of amusement creeping across her features.
"You actually watch that kind of stuff?" she asks, only for her expression to take on a more playful, teasing twist. "...Wait... Do you believe in ghosts, Nick?"
The fox can't help but sink into his chair with embarrassment. "Well... No. I mean... Maybe?" He wrings his paws together. "I'm paranormal-agnostic, alright? I just don't think there's enough evidence to prove or disprove anything one way or another."
For a few long moments, the doe doesn't say anything, simply watching the predator with a playful smile.
Nick frowns. "Don't give me that smirk. I invented that smirk!"
"I just didn't pin you for the superstitious type, slick," his partner explains with a self-satisfied grin.
"I'm not superstitious," the tod huffs with a roll of his eyes. "I'm just... A little-stitious." Shaking his head, he peers around the dining hall and says, "Besides, you can't tell me that this place doesn't give off a weird energy."
"Actually, I think it's kinda cozy," the doe tells him. "Though that might be because I'm half-pawpsicle at this point. I just hope the room has heating."
"Ah, well... Never fear, carrots. Even if it doesn't, you know I have plenty of ways to keep you warm," the fox tells her with a playful wag of his eyebrows.
He returns his attention to his stew, but pauses after a beat when he can practically feel the bunny's eyes boring holes into him. Glancing upwards, he finds that his partner's expression had taken on a more warm and affectionate twist. She watches him with soft, half-lidded eyes, her lips curled up in a gentle, loving smile.
"...Darlin, if you keep undressing me with your eyes like that, mammals might start thinking we're in looooove~" the tod teases.
Judy rolls her eyes, but her smile only broadens. "You're such a dork... I was just thinking, we rarely do this kind of thing."
"...What kind of thing?" Nick mumbles through a mouthful of stew.
"Like... You know, nice, romantic, candle-lit dinners. That kind of thing..."
The fox makes a mental note to treat his bunny to a proper night out as soon as they get back to the city.
"I was under the impression that we're not generally trying to out ourselves," Nick explains. "Not that I mind either way, but..."
"Yeah, I know," Judy sighs. "And I know that I was the one that suggested we keep our... Thing... Kinda close to the vest, but... Eventually, there's not going to be much point in hiding it."
"Hey, I'm all in, carrots, you know that," the fox tells her earnestly. "I just figured that it was easier for us to do the whole 'just a couple of pals out havin' a meal' shtick to avoid all the side-eye."
"Well, evidently, I don't think that's working very well," the doe tells him, peering around her partner's body to glance at one of the other patrons in the dining hall that had been staring daggers at her ever since they sat down.
Nick cranes his neck around to regard the mammal in question and wrinkles his nose, baring the slightest glint of teeth at the fox. The other predator quickly takes the hint, snapping his gaze back down to his meal.
"Nick!" Judy hisses.
"It's rude to stare," the tod tells her before she has an opportunity to properly scold him.
"It's also rude to bare your teeth at another mammal," the bunny frowns. "Technically, according to the ZPD handbook—"
"Yeah, yeah, fluff. Relax," Nick sighs. "I'll be a good boy."
Judy watches her partner in silence for a spell before that playful, affectionate smirk returns.
"At least wait until we're alone in our room together," the doe tells him. "Then you can do the Big Bad Fox thing all you want."
Nick nearly chokes on his next bite of stew and fixes his mate with a glare halfway between annoyed and impressed.
'Don't tempt me, rabbit...' he thinks to himself.
But had the doe been merely teasing, she sure doesn't show it, keeping those bedroom eyes of hers trained upon the fox as if daring him to try something. The tod swallows thickly, again turning his gaze back down to the meal in front of him.
As good as the stew is, the rest of it is polished off in short order.
~ // ~
After filling their bellies, Nick goes to pay for their meals only to be utterly rebuffed by Furson Fang, who assures the couple that it is, once again, on the house... Judy finds the seemingly boundless generosity of the fox couple running the hotel utterly delightful, but Nick is far less convinced. Their penchant for charity unsettles him in a deeply visceral way, and the tod can't help but anticipate some sort of caveat or catch to be thrown at them sooner rather than later.
Still, he doesn't allow his suspicions to hamper his mood. On the contrary, he finds himself unable to keep from getting increasingly pawsy as the two were finally setting off to find their room for the night. He could have chalked it up to his anticipation of some much-needed alone-time with the bunny getting the better of him, but the season also had a small part to play. Most foxes, regardless of species, get particularly... Cuddly, towards the tail-end of winter. You know, hormones, and all that...
Judy doesn't seem to mind. Frankly, as far as Nick can tell, she's having a difficult time keeping her paws to herself, as well.
Despite the crash, and the jaunt through the freezing cold, and the vaguely creepy, totally-not-haunted hotel that he finds himself within, the fox is back to riding that same emotional high that he'd been enjoying ever since last night. Having a belly full of amazing food certainly helped. He can feel its warmth permeating through his core and working its way towards his extremities in a way that made him feel almost giddy.
"...Slick, you coming?" he hears his mate call.
Nick shakes his head, quickly realizing that he'd stopped to stare absentmindedly at one of the numerous paintings lining the walls.
"Y-Yeah, right behind ya, partner," he quickly retorts.
The tod is about to turn to catch up with the bunny only to pause and scrutinize the painting for a beat—A portrait of an arctic fox in rather gaudy-looking regalia with a decorative spear in one paw and the small skull of some poor, wretched creature clutched in the other.
"...Yeesh..." he grunts. Morbid, much? It's one thing to see depictions of predation in the Natural History museum back in the city, but it's another thing entirely to see it celebrated like a form of heraldry... Moreover, the intense, almost hungry-looking glare of the predator depicted within is enough to send an uneasy shiver up the fox's spine. Backing away from the problematic painting, he mutters, "You better hope your eyes don't follow me as I walk away, bub, I've seen this movie before."
The duo eventually tracks down the room that the key in Nick's pocket belongs to, which, to Judy's immense relief, is just as warm and cozy as she had been hoping. Moreover, there is only a single bed inside, lending some credence to the notion that the receptionist had them pegged as a couple, as well.
The fox supposes that he did burst into the lobby of the hotel carrying the smaller mammal bridal-style, but still...
Judy moves to hang her thoroughly-soaked outer layers from the drying rack in the adjoining bathroom before flopping down onto the big, plush bed in the center of the room with a withering, satisfied sigh.
"Long day, huh?" Nick mumbles as he moves to join her.
"A little more eventful than I would have preferred, at the very least," the bunny tells him with a giggle.
The sound is like music to his ears, and the fox feels that mischievous fire alight in his belly once more.
"...Oh boy, I know that look," Judy comments as the fox moves to loom over her.
"Cut me some slack, carrots," the tod chuckles, his tail swishing rhythmically behind him. "It's been a little tough to get my groove on with your parents and your siblings lurking around every corner back at the warren."
"And I see you're already making up for lost time," the doe smiles, her eyes flicking down to the fox's approaching muzzle.
"Can't help it," Nick mutters as he steals a quick kiss from her. "Like I said over dinner, fluff, you're delicious..." The fox takes a moment to shrug his jacket off, finding that the room is a bit too toasty for his own liking. Leaning back down, he drinks in his partner's scent and nibbles playfully at her neck. "...Let's hope the walls here are a bit thicker than at your parent's place..."
"S-Sheesh, Nick," the doe giggles. "What's gotten into you?"
"You, rabbit. You've been driving me crazy," the tod half-purrs, half-growls. He feels his partner shudder under his frame, followed by the soft touch of her blunt claws sliding through the long fur on the side of his neck. Head swimming, he snares her muzzle in another kiss, one that his partner enthusiastically returns.
The tod finds that he can't even think straight, too utterly lost in her scent and her taste and the softness of her fur under his coarse pawpads...
Delicious... She's delicious...
"Mmm~!" Judy hums, breaking the kiss. She holds his head still with her paws to flash him a loving grin, saying, "Why don't you hop out of the rest of your clothes, and—" The bunny suddenly pauses, a frown tugging at her muzzle. Her eyes flick between his own for a beat, her nose twitching not with fear, but confusion. "...Are you okay?"
Nick blinks owlishly, the cautious uncertainty in her tone dragging him forcefully back to a moment of clarity. "...Wh... Huh?"
"...Your eyes, slick, they're all... Weird," she informs him.
'My eyes?' the tod thinks with a frown of his own.
He cocks his head to the side and catches a glimpse of himself through a mirror hanging on the wall nearby, and sure enough, his eyes are weird—His pupils had contracted down into razor sharp, vertical slits.
The sight is enough to make his heart skip a beat. The fox isn't sure he's ever seen himself looking like this—Not indoors, at least. In bright sunlight, his pupils might contract a fair amount, but this is... A lot... Without the blacks of his eyes, he radiated a rather unsettling, ghoulish-green aura.
"...Huh," is all the tod can think to say.
"...Seriously, are you feeling okay?" Judy asks, plainly concerned.
Nick rubs the back of his head and turns his attention back down to his partner. "I mean... I feel normal, I think. A little hot, but—"
Judy reaches a paw up to feel the tod's forehead, something that draws a chuckle from the predator.
"I doubt that'll tell you anything, mother. Besides, I don't feel sick."
"Then why are your eyes all kooky?" the bunny asks.
Nick opens his mouth to reply but snaps it shut a moment later, his ears filling with warmth.
"...You really gonna make me answer that...?" he questions. When he's met with silence from his partner, the tod groans in embarrassment and awkwardly suggests, "...Maybe because your fox partner is feeling particularly pent-up and got a bit carried away...?"
Judy blinks, raising an eyebrow.
"...Seriously?"
"Best guess, anyway," the fox shrugs. He moves to sit himself back up and regrets it immediately when a furious wave of nausea suddenly washes over him. The predator squeezes his eyes shut and goes still as a statue, every fiber of his being telling him that one small move is all it would take to make him vomit. "...Eh, maybe I spoke too soon..." he eventually squeaks.
"Here, lay down," his partner quickly urges, wriggling out from under him to help guide the fox down onto the mattress.
"I'm fine, carrots, really," Nick protests weakly, more upset that he'd ruined the mood than he was concerned about his health.
But the sudden dizziness that had overtaken him leaves little room for argument, and before the tod knows it, he's laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling as the room around him begins to spin.
"Maybe you're having a reaction to whatever it was you ate for dinner," he hears Judy suggest from somewhere else in the room.
Furrowing his brow, he tilts his head to the side and finds that the doe had suddenly disappeared. In fact, the entire room had been cast into near-darkness, the only remaining source of illumination being the dim lamp resting atop the nightstand nearby. Despite the near-overwhelming warmth he'd felt in the room just a moment ago, now all he was left with was the cold chill of her absence.
"...Carrots...?" he whispers into the dark, his mouth suddenly feeling dry.
The creaking of wooden floorboards makes his ears twitch, and the tod feels his entire body go rigid as his primal fight-or-flight response snaps to attention.
Someone else is in the room...
It's not Judy, that much he can tell. The absence of her scent is the biggest giveaway. No, this is someone, or something else...
Despite every fiber of his being urging him not to, the fox manages to overcome the fear that had so frozen him and cautiously cranes his neck around to regard the other side of the room. He blinks a few times, his vision still swimming as he gazes into the inky black shadows pouring out from under the furniture and creeping up the walls.
Something's moving within. Something he can't quite see, but he knows it's there—A figure without form, limbs of uncertain quantity or length, a face with indiscernible features...
It watched him with no malice nor curiosity, simply an endless, scrutinizing gaze, as if waiting for the fox to do something. To move. To blink.
Nick would have screamed if his tongue wasn't halfway down his throat already. Instead, he nearly tumbles from the bed and skitters backwards until he bumps into the wall behind him, his wide-eyes locked onto the presence as if breaking his gaze for but an instant would spell the end of him. He stands himself up on shaky legs and pats a paw along the wall, desperately searching for the doorknob. As soon as his claws find purchase, he throws the door open and scampers through it, slamming it shut behind him.
He doesn't stop moving until he reaches the opposite side of the hallway, his legs feeling wobbly and uncooperative as he fights against the terror flooding his body. Only then does the tod take a moment to pause, clutching his chest and gasping for air, suddenly realizing that he'd been holding his breath this entire time... A part of him was hoping that Judy would be out here somewhere, waiting for him, but the hallway was just as cold and silent and empty as their room had been.
Swallowing thickly, Nick snaps his head to the left as a fleeting scent tickles his nose.
'Judy.'
Keeping one of his paws pressed up against the wall for support, the tod begins a slow march towards the source of the scent, his nostrils flaring as he drinks it in, clinging to the familiar notes of lavender and freshly-tilled soil as if they were a life raft in the middle of the ocean. The mismatched curio lining the hallway only serves as an obstacle for the fox to meander around, and he finds himself nearly tripping over potted plants and marble pedestals as he walks, trusting his nose to guide him more than his eyes.
He pauses, however, at the sight of a familiar painting—The portrait of the noblefox with the skull clutched in his paw. The predator's steely-eyed glare stares down at him judgmentally, as if scolding him. For what, the tod isn't sure, but it takes him a considerable amount of effort to wrench his gaze away from the painting and keep moving forward.
Beside it, a second portrait hangs, again depicting another fox in eccentric regalia. This one wears a sash made of mink, Nick realizes with a grimace, and his foot-paws rest upon a rug made of thick, brown fur. The tod's stomach turns at the sight, his ears flattening at the notion that his ancestors thought so little of prey that their only worldly purpose was to be slaughtered and then trod upon...
A third painting catches his eye soon after—This one apparently keen to dispense with all semblance of subtlety... It depicts a menagerie of well-to-do foxes seated around a long, wooden table in a banquet hall, a veritable feast laid before them. Amidst the usual suspects of roasted birds and grilled fish and succulent fruits, the tod spies other creatures, roasted whole, dressed up with herbs and spices, and presented on silver platters to the apparent delight of the assembled diners: Squirrels, mice... Rabbits...
Again, Nick feels as though he may vomit. It's only Judy's warm and inviting scent that keeps him moving forwards.
"C... Carrots!" the fox calls, his voice sounding hoarse.
A second, familiar scent greets his nose. One that makes his mouth water.
The stew.
Despite having little, if any, desire to eat, his stomach rumbles with protest, begging for attention. The fox grimaces and shakes his head, having to wipe his jowls with his sleeve when he starts to drool.
'What the hell is happening to me?'
The mingling of the two scents leads the tod back to the lobby of the hotel, which he finds is still cast in that dim, orange glow of the fire. His eyes lock onto the flickering flames, finding himself momentarily lost in the arrhythmic crackle and dancing shadows that poured from the expansive hearth.
"Leaving so soon, dear?" a voice asks, causing the tod to jolt in surprise.
He whirls around, finding the old vixen receptionist still seated at her desk.
Swallowing thickly, Nick manages to find his voice and asks, "H-Have you seen my partner?"
Maribelle flashes him a friendly glance over the rim of her glasses. "Who?"
"The bunny I came in with. My—" he pauses for a beat before deciding to just commit to it: "My mate."
"I'm afraid not, sweetheart," the receptionist coos. "You came in alone. Don't you remember?"
Nick frowns, rubbing the side of his head, his vision still swimming and his mind fuzzy. "No, I... We came in together. You said she looked like the last little bunny that came through here, remember? She's a little grey rabbit."
"Oh! The little bunny," the vixen chimes, her eyes lighting up with recognition. "Yes, she left us the other night."
"No, she—" Nick sighs. "Look, she was with me when we came in. She ran over to the fireplace, and—"
The fox freezes as he spares the fireplace a glance, catching a glimpse of long, rabbit-like ears amidst the flickering shadows on the wall. Nick snaps his head in the opposite direction to track down the source, but finds nobody there. Looking back to the receptionist, he once again jolts in surprise when he finds Maribelle now standing in front of her desk.
"You look famished, my dear. Won't you join us for supper?"
Nick reels his head back in surprise. "Lady, we just ate." He scrutinizes the arctic fox with an uncertain expression, asking, "...Don't you remember me?"
"Of course, sweetheart! But a growing fox like you should always have room for seconds."
Apparently, his stomach agrees, as it once again growls in protest. Before he knows it, the tod is being half-led, half-dragged towards the dining hall.
Once inside, the sweet, succulent scent of stew dispels any doubt that the fox may have had about his own hunger. The vixen was right—He is famished. The tod is sat back down at the same table he'd occupied only a short while ago. The wax candle at the table's center had burned down to nearly nothing, and a cursory glance to the other side reveals a half-eaten salad and a curiously empty chair.
Nick furrows his brow, feeling as though he's forgetting something, but before he can probe the notion, the chef emerges from the kitchen with a big bowl of stew held aloft in his paws. It lands before him with a hearty slosh, smelling just as good as it did the first time.
Hell, maybe even better.
The succulent, fatty scent mingles in his nose with familiar notes of lavender, and the tod almost automatically reaches for his silverware, his mouth watering with anticipation.
The first bite is a revelation, bursting in his mouth in an explosion of flavor that sets his senses ablaze. Spices dance along the sides of his tongue while sweet notes of butter cling to the back of his throat.
"Mmm~" the fox groans, unable to contain his pleasure. He peers wistfully into the bowl of stew, poking at the brown, fleshy chunks floating within. "Seriously—What is this?"
"Chef's special," the arctic fox tells him with a wink.
Despite his curiosity, the tod can't help but wolf down the rest of the bowl. It was unimaginably delicious, like a flavor he'd been starved of for his entire life.
No sooner does Nick polish off the last of the bowl than another lands in front of him to replace it, this one even more succulent and mouth-watering than the last. He wastes little time tucking in, his ravenous hunger utterly insatiable. The two arctic foxes loom over him as silent spectators while he eats, their presence barely a blip in the back of Nick's mind as he gorges himself on the stew. The sweet, floral scent of lavender and the rich, earthy notes of freshly-tilled soil flood his nostrils, and this time, they fail to offer him any comfort.
"Please," he begs. "Tell me what this is."
"You know what it is, dearie," Maribelle says with an air of humor in her voice.
"You've always known," Furson assures him.
Nick swallows his last mouthful and stares down at the bowl, watching the meaty chunks floating around with wild, covetous eyes. A primal itch scratches at the back of his brain, and his eyes flick back over to the half-eaten salad sitting across the table from him.
"Where's..." he manages, shaking his head. He's forgetting something...
"It's delicious, isn't it?" the receptionist questions warmly.
"Chef's specialty," the chef says with a wink.
Nick's breathing accelerates, his heart pounding in his ears. Something is wrong.
Regaining his faculties for a beat, the fox pushes himself away from the table with a violent clatter.
"Where's Judy?!"
"Who?"
"The rabbit, dammit!" Nick nearly growls. "My partner! My mate!"
"Sweet little thing," Maribelle says with a melancholy nod.
"She was delicious," Furson agrees.
Nick stumbles backwards, feeling as though his heart may burst in his chest. His eyes flick down to the half-finished stew, suddenly feeling quite ill once again. Without bothering to ask for permission, the tod bolts away from the table and forces his way into the kitchen. What he finds on the other side is... Beyond his comprehension.
Butchered meat and bubbling viscera and ratty clumps of grey and white fur and an ocean of blood coating every visible surface, splattered across the walls and dripping from the ceiling like a bomb had gone off...
"Wh... what did you do?" Nick asks, his voice faltering.
He feels the delicate paw of the receptionist come to rest upon his shoulder. "It's only natural, my dear."
"Predation has been practiced on this spot for millennia," the chef adds.
Nick just shakes his head and quickly shrugs the vixen's paw off.
"No, I... This isn't real," Nick protests, struggling to breathe. "I couldn't have—"
"Why not?" the chef questions. "Was it not delicious?"
It was, he realizes grimly.
The receptionist wears a warm, motherly smile, even as Nick stiltedly backs away from her. "Do you feel it? The instinct welling-up inside you? That hunger?"
Nick's entire world is spinning. "I'm not... I don't..." He continues to retreat until his tail makes contact with the blood-soaked countertop behind him.
"Does it terrify you?" the chef asks with an ear-splitting grin that doesn't match his eyes. "That you crave what's most natural for our species to enjoy? That you're not quite as civilized as you thought you were?"
Gritting his teeth, Nick decides he's heard enough and darts for the staff-only side-entrance to the kitchen, quickly emerging into the hall beyond with such energy that he nearly bounces off the opposite wall. Scrambling back to the lobby of the hotel, the tod all but leaps over the receptionist's desk and scours its surface for the telephone. He spots his quarry a split second later and tears the wired handset off of the receiver, bringing it to his ear.
But the sound that he's met with is the one that he most feared—The rhythmic, monotone squawk of a dead line.
Cursing under his breath, the predator instead bolts over to the monumental wooden front doors of the hotel and throws them open, intent on finding someone—anyone—that can help, but the furious, howling gale that greets him on the other side has other ideas. His foot-paws struggle to find purchase on the hard, marble flooring of the lobby as he battles against the wind. Try as he might, he can't force his way forward. It was as if the outside world had rejected him.
The high-pitched click-clack of sharp claws gliding across tile makes the fox's ears twitch, and he whirls around to find the receptionist and the chef once again creeping up behind him.
"Have another bowl, dear," the vixen insists, gesturing to the fresh bowl of stew held aloft in her mate's paws.
"It's on the house, and there's plenty to go around!" the chef chimes.
Nick is quick to push past the duo, this time heading for the stairs. He makes it back to their room in short order, slamming the door shut behind him. Breathing hard, he scans the room, finding with some dismay that, not only is his partner still missing, but Judy's personal effects are gone, too. No go-pack leaning against the wall, no still-damp clothes hanging from the drying rack in the bathroom, no trace of her at all...
A knocking at the door nearly makes the fox leap out of his fur, and he scrambles back over to ensure that the locking latch is properly engaged before backing away towards the bed. He can smell the chef's stew from the other side of the door, it's warm, intoxicating notes doing their best to coax him back over.
"Mister Wilde, won't you join us for supper?" the chef calls through the wooden surface.
"You must be famished!" comes the vixen.
"Just one more bite, Mister Wilde!"
Heartbeat pounding in his ears, Nick scans the room for anything that might help him, only to freeze when he catches his reflection in the mirror. His eyes are still contracted in that deeply unsettling way, but perhaps more concerningly, a look of voracious, animalistic hunger had suffused throughout his features. His ears are pinned back, the bridge of his nose wrinkled, and his teeth bared in a silent, vicious snarl. Moreover, his muzzle is utterly caked in blood. It drips from his chin and down his neck, staining his cream-colored fur a dark, hateful crimson.
"N-No..." the predator breathes. As much as he wants to look away, his reflection compels him to stare.
Even as the door is torn off its hinges and a dozen impossibly-long arms begin to coil themselves around him, the fox finds himself utterly incapable of tearing his gaze away from the creature on the other side of the mirror. The feral beast, for his own part, simply watches in silence as his counterpart is forced onto the bed and pinned in place. Slithering paws violently wrench the tod's jaws open, and thick globs of stew are quickly forced down his gullet.
Nick struggles and gags, writhing under his captors' grasp, desperate to escape.
With his last ounce of willpower, he lets out a guttural growl and forces himself upright.
"STOP!"
At once, the room goes silent, save for the fox's heaving breaths.
Nick snaps his head to the left, and then the right, discovering that the room is suddenly devoid of any other mammals. The curtains covering the window on the far wall are drawn closed, but soft rays of daylight creep into the otherwise darkened hotel room between narrow gaps in the fabric. Swallowing thickly, the fox cranes his neck around to regard himself in the mirror and finds with no shortage of relief that his eyes appear to be back to normal.
Heart still pounding in his chest, the tod gathers his wits and untangles himself from the bedsheets, moving to worm his way off of the mattress. He drinks in a deep, wavering breath in an attempt to settle himself only for his heart to skip a beat when he catches a whiff of lavender drifting through the air.
'Judy!'
Still somewhat disoriented, the tod scans the room once again and gets a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when he still finds no sign of the doe—No luggage, no clothing... Nothing...
Driven by instinct more than anything, the fox pushes his way out of the hotel room and races down to the lobby of the hotel. Finding nobody behind reception, he bolts over to the dining hall and forces his way inside. A half-dozen surprised-looking foxes turn their eyes in his direction, including Furson Fang, who appeared to be serving the other guests breakfast.
"Where is she?!" Nick demands, still somewhat out of breath.
The arctic fox seems to scan the tod up and down, likely taking note of his frazzled, frenzied state. "...Uh... Sorry?"
"The rabbit! Judy! My mate!"
"Here, Nick," comes a soft, familiar voice from behind him.
The tod whirls around and lays eyes on the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Without even thinking, he reaches down and scoops the bunny up into his embrace, squeezing her so tightly that she lets out a strangled squeak of discomfort.
"...You're... Okay..." the fox breathes, all of his pent up anxiety dissipating in an instant.
"Down, please," Judy squeaks, giving the predator a pat on the back. Despite a strong desire to cling to her for just a little while longer, Nick places the bunny back down, who straightens out her puffy, winter outerwear while staring up at the tod with no shortage of concern plastered across her features. "...Good morning to you, too," she mumbles. "How are you feeling...?"
"How... How am I—How are you..." Nick shakes his head, at a loss for words for a beat. "I... I thought you were..."
Clearly sensing that something was wrong with her partner, the bunny takes the fox by the wrist and leads him out of the dining hall, away from prying eyes. It's only once she's sure they're alone that she spins around and reaches a paw up to touch the predator's forehead, but the larger mammal intercepts her wrist halfway.
"I thought I'd eaten you..." Nick admits softly.
Judy just stares up at the fox with an uneasy frown, confusion plain on her features.
"Nick I'm... I'm fine, see?" Shaking her head, she reaches up and cradles her partner's head in her paws. "...You must have had some kind of crazy fever dream..."
"...Fever dream?" the tod mumbles, his brain fog and disorientation finally starting to subside.
Judy bobs her head. "You went downhill pretty fast after we got up to our room, slick. I actually ran down to the lobby thinking I might have to call you an ambulance, but the receptionist mentioned that one of the other guests had come down with a bad case of food poisoning, so I figured it must have been that." She reaches down into a plastic bag that the fox didn't realize she was carrying and produces a couple of items. "I went to the general store in town as soon as it opened this morning and got you some medicine and some sports drinks with lots of electrolytes, assuming that you—"
"Food poisoning," Nick parrots incredulously. He works his jaw for a beat before saying, "Darling, last time I got food poisoning, I was stuck on the toilet for four-and-a-half hours shitting my brains out. I didn't astral project myself across a haunted house. I mean, I..." The fox pauses, thinking back on the events of the dream. "...I was tripping balls carrots. There was this part where a bunch of mammals were holding me down, forcing stuff down my throat—"
"That... Might have been me," Judy admits sheepishly. "You were burning up in the middle of the night and I tried to get you to drink some water. It... Didn't go well."
The fox spares his partner a nonplussed expression, but nonetheless reiterates, "I've had bad trips before, bunny. That was about as bad as it gets—Paranoia, dissociation, wild hallucinations, the works."
Judy shakes her head, her brow furrowing.
"So... What are you saying? You think you were... Drugged?"
Before the tod can even think to answer, a second voice beats him to the punch.
"Hey now, uh..." Chef Fang sputters, emerging from around the nearby corner. "Look, I, uh, didn't mean to overhear, and I truly am sorry about the spoiled food, but I don't know anything about any drugs!"
Nick fixes the arctic fox with a threatening scowl, saying, "Just what the hell did you put in that stew, anyway?"
"Roast duck!" the chef blurts.
"...Duck?" Nick blinks. He's never had duck before. No wonder it tasted so unusual.
"Yes, duck!" the other tod insists. "Just duck!"
"Well, how about we check the kitchen, just to be sure?" Nick grouses, still unconvinced.
"Nick..." Judy protests weakly.
"Is that strictly necessary?" Fang presses.
"Yes," Nick nearly growls. He leans down to mutter into his partner's long ears, asking, "Hey, do you have your badge? Get your badge out."
Judy draws a quiet sigh of defeat but does as the tod says, digging her badge out of her wallet and presenting it to the arctic fox. Chef Fang stares at the badge, and then the bunny, and then finally the fox, his expression souring the entire time.
"Yeah, that's right: ZPD," Nick announces. He points towards the dining hall and says, "Kitchen, now."
With no shortage of reluctance, the arctic fox leads the two officers back through the dining hall and then into the kitchen, which Nick is pleased to discover is decidedly less bloodsoaked than it had been in his nightmare. As promised, Fang shows the tod the remains of the duck carcasses that he'd used to make the stew last night, and a cursory sniff of the meat itself doesn't set off any immediate alarm bells in the back of the fox's mind. In fact, the duck doesn't smell rancid or spoiled in any way, despite what the claim of food poisoning had otherwise led him to believe...
"...Oh, you have got to be kidding me..." he hears his partner groan from the other side of the kitchen. "Nick!"
The fox cranes his neck around only to find the bunny holding a very familiar bushel of onions aloft by their pretty, floral stalks.
Midnicampum holicithias.
Night Howler...
"...What?" Chef Fang questions with open palms, his eyes darting between the two officers. "They're onions!"
"They're a Class C botanical," Judy informs him.
"More to the point, they're also blue, bub," Nick adds flatly.
Fang screws up his face in confusion.
"...Blue?" he grunts, though a lick of realization creases his features a moment later. "...Oh... Uh, would now be a good time to mention that colorblindness runs in my family...?"
~ // ~
Nick sips at his takeaway coffee, watching his partner from behind his reflective sunglasses as the doe marches back over in his direction. He leans against his cane for support, trying not to grimace at the throbbing end result of all of his dashing through the snow and his drug-induced restless legs syndrome from the night prior.
"That should just about do it," Judy says upon returning to his side. She pockets her notebook and lets out a sigh of relief, adding, "The local officers will be able to handle the rest from here."
"...No jail?" Nick asks thinly.
"Nope, no jail. Sorry to disappoint," the bunny says, her ears twitching with amusement. "There's no reason to believe that Furson Fang wasn't being honest. He really is colorblind, and there's a high probability that his supplier took advantage of that fact to sell him a bill of goods. The local cops will track down the supplier, and that mammal, whoever they may be, will probably go to jail."
Nick lets out a grunt of acknowledgement but doesn't offer anything further, turning his attention back to the uniformed officers collecting statements near the entrance to the Grand Renard. Deer, the lot of them...
He doesn't know why he expected otherwise, but it still surprised him to discover that none of the cops in Foxwood are, you know, foxes...
"So... Do you think you went savage?" Judy questions hesitantly.
"I certainly went something," Nick mumbles with a sigh. He takes another sip of his coffee before saying, "You'll recall that our buddy Doug back in the city had to create a concentrate out of the Night Howlers in order to do his grizzly business. I'm sure whatever dose I got was nothing in comparison."
"That's probably also why it left your system so quickly," the doe considers. Nose twitching and clearly unable to contain her curiosity, she quietly asks, "...What was it like?"
The fox gives his partner a look. "...It was a literal fucking nightmare, carrots." He licks his teeth, hesitantly adding, "I... Thought that I ate you..."
The bunny's ears droop, a look of horror washing over her features.
"Oh, Nick..." she coos while roping the fox into a tight hug. "I know you'd never hurt me, slick..."
Nick, himself, isn't so sure. If nothing else, the fever dream made him realize that some fears can be buried so deeply that one might not even be consciously aware of them...
"...Yet another fun little adventure to bring up in therapy with Doctor Long," the tod says in a bit of gallows humor after a beat.
Judy flashes her partner a sympathetic smile and peels herself away from his frame, saying, "I tracked down a tow company, by the way. We should be out of that ditch and back on the road in an hour or so."
"Groovy. I'm just about ready to blow this pawpsicle stand, too," he mumbles.
"...Just about?" the bunny questions with a curious eye.
As if on cue, Furson Fang emerges from the custody of the assembled officers, and Nick tosses his now-empty coffee cup into a nearby garbage bin.
"Fang!" Nick barks, already moving to intercept the arctic fox.
The tod in question goes stiff with alarm and shrinks under the red fox's inscrutable, sunglass-wearing gaze.
"Y-Yes? Eh... No harm, no foul, right?" the chef suggests weakly.
Nick crosses his arms.
"Whatever you say, bub... Just answer me one thing," he demands. "...Do you think I can get that stew recipe?"