Judith Laverne Hopps was not your average bunny. Where most in this day and age were content with their given social rules, she was far from satisfied. Coyotes were okay with being scouts in the royal army, just as rabbits were okay with being farmers. Bears and rhinos were used to being guards while goats sold general goods. Sheep were content with being tailors, while wolves were seen as rogues or bandits.

It seemed each mammal in the world, each species, had learned and completely accepted its role in society without question. And most mammals that didn't fit the mold were either broken to fit it, or cast out and treated as something far lesser. She, however, was not. She didn't want to be a farmer, as her entire family was. She wanted, if anything, to be a guard of some sort. Something active, something different. Something unlike her species.

Which made her current predicament all the more worrying.

For three hours, she had been running. Not for her health, not for a job, no. She was running for her life, despite having long left the footfalls of the noble's guards behind her. And now, she was lost. So horribly, helplessly lost that she felt she could never escape these woods.

Letting out a yelp, the rabbit tripped and fell to the dirt. The stray root of a growing oak tree had tripped her up. At feeling herself hit the ground and come to a stop, she took a careful look of her surroundings. Trees, mainly oaks, and shrubbery surrounded her. There was no sort of path in sight, and the sun was lowering itself to the distant mountains, casting a faint orange glow on the horizon. It would be dark soon, and she had no shelter, no food, no way to know where she was headed. The chances of her making it to morning were, in their own right, slim. If the carnivorous bandits didn't get to her, it was entirely possible the guards would still be after her. Not to mention the few poisonous reptiles that still remained in this portion of the world, or the numerous poisonous plants she could think were harmless enough to eat.

And it was with this crushing realization, that she let loose a torrent of tears. They stained the ground below her as she wept, her lavender dress now tattered and muddied.

Feeling her hope flow free with her tears, the little rabbit gave in to her emotions and let darkness envelop her.

~ óÓÒò ~

When Judy woke, it was dark. She was shivering from the cold spring night, and the ground smelled of fresh rainfall. The grass around her was wet with a morning dew, and her dress was damp with the same substance. Rubbing her eyes, she rose to a sitting position and sat against the tree that had tripped her the night before. To her right, the faintest rays of sunlight were being cast through the trees, giving her just enough light to see by. Her surroundings had not changed, aside from the occasional gleams of water droplets upon leaves as wind swept along them.

There was nothing to say and nothing to think about as she pulled herself to her feet and began to trudge in the direction she hoped home was. There was no haste, no rush in her as she sniffed from her tears and wiped at her nose. She walked, praying it was in a straight line, for a lengthy amount of time before her stomach's grumbling interrupted her silence. Ears falling down to rest against her head, she looked around for a plant she could recognize. There was a blueberry bush nearby, but it appeared to only have shriveled up, rotten berries on it. She wandered the area in a circle, before coming across what seemed like a passable meal: a raspberry bush.

With a sigh, she sat beside the bush and plucked a berry from it. "Oh, how lucky am I?" she muttered to herself bitterly, popping the berry into her mouth. The sweet, yet somehow still sour taste filled her mouth as she ate it, followed by another berry, followed by several more. She hadn't realized how hungry she was.

By the time the sun shone brightly through the clouds, her paws and muzzle were stained red, and the bush was devoid of any berries. Rubbing her stomach gently, she rose up and began walking again. Silence surrounded her yet again as she walked, though now it was no longer marred by a literal feeling of emptiness in her stomach. Instead, she was now free to think about the events that led to her predicament yesterday.

But, the more she thought of them, the angrier she grew. And with that anger came recklessness. And with that recklessness came her kicking along rocks and her paws shifting to fists as she went. Going along, she found she had no way to let loose her anger, until she happened across a stick of decent length that seemed to have fallen from the tree. It was as long as her arm and half as heavy.

With a twitching nose of curiousity, she hefted the stick with one paw. It felt unevenly balanced, but was satisfying enough to swing in the air.

And on she continued to walk, venting her frustrations by swinging about her newfound item. Leaves were scattered as she hit bushes, rocks went soaring ahead as she smacked them away, and small bits of wood would splinter off as she hit trees. But, despite the light damage it caused, it helped. Not only that, but it could leave her a trail, to tell her if she had gone in a circle.

It wasn't until the sun had passed over its peak that the rabbit realized that she might be in more trouble than she had anticipated. Many hours of near-constant walking, and she hadn't come to any recognizable area. She also found a noticeable lack of water, unable to even hear a running source, and her food supply was limited to the sparse berry plants she stumbled across. Her stick had broken one end enough to be sharpened, which she saw as a means for self-defense should she happen across any unsavory characters.

Though not explicitly skilled in combat, she and her siblings had often played games of knights and bandits when they were little. She had no formal training, but several times she had found herself the last standing member of her 'kingdom', and fought as far as she could. It took her anywhere from ten minutes to two hours to be taken down, or on one occasion, having taken nearly twenty of her siblings down and won the battle.

But of course, that was all play. In this situation, she would be risking her life, not some imaginary points. And that idea alone got her heart racing enough to quicken her pace.

But if her day so far was any indication, she was unlikely to find her destination with ease.

~ óÓÒò ~

It was growing dark again, and Judy had yet to find her way home. Or, really, anywhere she recognized. She knew this bode ill for her and her chances of survival, especially now that it was her second night away from home. But, she heard sounds, voices, from not too far off. They were loud, shouting, and she swore she could see lights through the trees. Perhaps she had found her way somewhere after all?

Filled with a newfound hope, Judy ran forward to the noise. It rose steadily from an unintelligible cacophony of noises to an understandable grouping of voices filled with concern and anger. Stopping just outside the source, a small town riddled with shacks which she had approached from behind, the rabbit looked on in confusion and curiosity. A mob of the residents and guards, armed with literal torches and pitchforks (and, for the guards, crossbows), were wandering to and fro, searching between buildings for something... Or someone.

She continued forward, despite the growing sensation of unease in her gut, until she poked her head out from between two homes. The mob was meandering away from her, and she let out a sigh as she decided what to do. The idea hit her, literally, as she was flung to the ground an instant after her vision was filled with a deep brown. The sound of coins scattering on the dirt behind her drew the mob's attention her way as she scrambled to her feet. The source of the brown became evident as she stared at a cloaked fox who was scrambling to pick up as many coins as he could, a tan hat with a single red feather sticking from it resting on his head.

He turned towards her and reached for a coin, his emerald eyes meeting her own amethyst ones as he did so.

Then she realized what was happening: This fox had stolen coin from the town, and they were searching for him. She had just happened to be where he had been running and tripped him, sending his bag spilling on the ground as they both fell. Now, the mob was closing in on the two.

Angry voices filled the air as she turned around, a glimmer of hope showing in her eyes. Maybe, if she helped the townsfolk get their coin back, they could direct her to home? Possibly be given a meal as thanks for her unintended help?

"There he is!" A voice called out.

"Look, there's a bunny, too!" Said another.

"What?" Came a third. "A rabbit's helping him now? We can't even trust the prey?"

Judy's ears fell against her head as she heard the voices. They suspected her of helping the fox steal their gold. It was likely, if this town operated in any way like her own, that they wouldn't even give her the chance to explain herself to them. So it was with great haste that she grabbed her stick and turned tail, running after the fox as he began to head for the woods. Arrows began to fill the air as she ran, and one caught her left leg, making her cry out and fall down.

The spark of hope she held had gone out as she collapsed to the ground, the sounds of the mob nearing her as she clutched the wound in her leg. The fabric between her fingers and leg was now torn and stained red, and she hissed as she held it close.

It seemed that rabbits weren't as lucky as her family had once told her.

~ óÓÒò ~

The fox paused as he heard the rabbit's cry of pain from behind him, an arrow sailing well over his head as he did so. He turned to see the gray bunny curling up on the ground, clutching her leg to her chest. The mob was drawing nearer, and he could almost feel their anger. But now, he was presented with a problem.

He could save the rabbit, who most likely would be hanged for a hasty assumption that she was helping him, or he could save the money he held in the bag in his left paw. The decision, for him, wasn't as easy as one would think. But, in the end, morality won out, and he began to run back to the pitiful creature on the ground. As he ran, he poured what few coins he could into the pouch on his belt, before tying off the bag and hurling it with all his might to the angry crowd.

They paused, each mammal trying to secure the bag, buying the fox just enough time to crouch down and pick up the rabbit. She hissed as he shifted her, giving him a cold glare as he turned and began running for safety yet again. He didn't dare look back, only pausing when something took the almost imperceptable weight of his hat off his head and stuck it to the tree – a sharpened stick. Without hesitation, he reached for the stick and tore it from the tree it had landed in, hat sitting atop as he set it between his chest and the rabbit he held.

It wasn't until the sun had completely set and the sliver of light that was the moon had risen that he stopped behind a tree, setting down the rabbit. She immediately pushed him away and scrambled against the tree, grabbing the sharpened stick and holding it similarly to a spear. The reynard held up his paws and held his crouching position.

"What are you doing with me, you thief?!" she hissed, eyes filled with a burning anger.

"Shush!" he hissed back, reaching beneath his cloak for the pouch that held bandages. He withdrew one, the white fabric feeling rough in his paws as he reached for her leg. She pulled it away, and shot daggers at him. "I'm only trying to help you," he said, meeting her gaze.

"You liar!" she accused, jabbing at him once. He backed up and held both paws where she could see them, the white bandage trailing from one.

"Hey, hey, easy, easy!" he said. "Look, I'm not going to hurt you. Just bandage your leg," he said, pointing to the item he held. "See?"

The rabbit stared at him, expression not wavering until she shifted and hissed in pain, drawing her leg close again. The fox tilted his head a bit and held the bandage a little higher, relaxing as she let out a reluctant sigh and extended her leg. Slowly, the fox reached down and she tugged her dress just far enough back that he could see the cut.

It was in the middle of her shin, and was caked with dried blood, though wet spots gleamed here and there. He deftly wrapped her leg up and pulled away, rising to his feet.

"Alright, well, with that taken care of, I think I'll be going now," he said, turning to walk away. When he felt a sharp poking in his back, he paused and turned around again, cap in paw. The rabbit was now standing, stick level with his chest.

"Oh, no you don't. You're helping me get to where I need to go," she said. The fox scoffed.

"And why would I do that?" he asked, paws being planted on his hips as he stared down at her.

"Because if you don't I'll... I'll..." The rabbit stuttered, as if trying to find a valid reason. "I'll tell that town where you went!" She threatened.

He laughed again. "Oh, yes, because I can't just take a winding path to my desitnation. Next?"

Her ears fell to her back as she stared at him. "I'll... I'll hunt you down myself and bring the guard to you!" She tried again. He laughed again.

"And you think you can keep up with me on an injured leg? That's about as rich as the nobles from that town."

She was running out of options, and the fox knew it. "Then, I'll just stab you here and take you back myself!" She tried.

The fox laughed again, before shifting forward and grabbing her stick with one paw. He raised it into the air, causing her to let out an 'eep' of surprise as he brought his muzzle to be level with hers. "And now?" he jabbed, a smirk playing along his lips.

With a grunt, she lifted herself and kicked at him with one leg, catching him in the stomach. The reynard groaned and strained to not double over, catching her foot with his other paw when she went for a second kick. Now he held her up, one foot dangling uselessly as the other was trapped to his stomach, both of her paws held onto the stick he had raised up.

"You really think you're going to win this fight?" he asked, a low growl emenating from his throat. He could feel the rabbit's pulse quicken as she took a nervous gulp, her expression changing from determination to fear. The scent she gave off also spiked with fear, telling him he had won.

He stared at her for a moment longer, before gently lowering her to the ground and placing the cap on his head, ignoring the new hole it had in it.

"Alright, Carrots. I'll help you out, but only for tonight," he said.

The rabbit dug the stick into the ground and stood up, leaning against it for balance. "You're going to want to refrain from calling me Carrots," she hissed, venom dripping from her voice.

"My bad," he said, sauntering away. "I just assumed you came from some little carrot-choked podunk out east."

He glanced beside him as the rabbit matched her pace with his, using the stick as a makeshift crutch. "Uh, no," she said angrily. "I'm from-"

He paused and held up a paw. "Shh, shh, shh, shh," he said quickly, ears perking up as he leaned down to her. "Do you hear that?" he said, watching in amusement as her ears slowly rose, straining to find the sound he was speaking of. "That's the sound of me not really caring," he said, smirking once again as he started walking.

It took a minute for the rabbit to shake herself free of the anger that held her in place and go after the fox. "Hey!" She said, voice both whining and angered. "I'll have you know that my family-"

"Probably has several different fields for crops, has nearly six hundred little kits, is very prosperous, yeah yeah," he interrupted again. "Look, Carrots, I don't really want to know this right now. All I'm interested in at the moment is food. And if you keep annoying me, you'll start looking more appetizing." He spoke with a playful voice, licking his lips as he wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Given the sudden silence his comment brought about, and the bit of red at the tips of the rabbits ears, he had finally earned some quiet.

This lasted a few minutes, before she spoke up again. "So... What's your name?" She asked hesitantly. The reynard chuckled, debating whether or not to be honest with her, before again letting morality get the better of him.

"Nicholas Wilde," he said. Then, looking down to her, he said: "What's yours?"

The rabbit looked down, before finally answering. "Judith Hopps."

"Well, Judy," Nick said as they neared a set of bushes. "Welcome to my den."

With that, he pulled aside the branches of one bush, and ushered her through. The sight beyond was sure to surprise her, and judging from the gasp she let out, it had done just that.