The countryside was a genuine balm for the soul.
Since arriving in Zootopia, Kevin had never seen such overwhelming greenery, not since the Rainforest District, anyway.
Endless crops rippled in the breeze like rolling waves, sunlight scattering across them like shattered gold.
Every leaf glittered with a fine, delicate luster that made him squint, yet he found himself unable to look away.
It was as if his very pupils were relaxing, drinking in the sight.
Pawbert, a city boy through and through, was seeing this kind of rural landscape for the very first time.
He’d spent most of the drive with his entire head stuck out the window, wind roaring in and flipping his ears every which way.
His eyes, however, never stopped moving, darting left, right, up, down, trying to take in everything at once.
Bunnyburrow wasn’t actually that far from Zootopia, about two and a half hours by car under normal conditions.
Unfortunately, Kevin didn’t know the route at all, and this was an old road built years ago with shoddy maintenance.
The potholes made for a bumpy ride that was brutal on the suspension.
They’d set off at daybreak, and by the time their small convoy finally rolled up to the village entrance, the sun was nearly directly overhead, unsparingly illuminating every inch of the settlement.
The village slowly unfolded before them like a living painting.
Along the narrow country lanes, a few rabbits in jeans and straw hats ambled along with shovels slung over their shoulders.
Snatches of laughter and easy conversation drifted out from under their hat brims, carried fragmented by the breeze yet still carrying that unmistakable lazy contentment.
Carts piled high with produce sat parked at the roadside.
Farther off, clusters of young rabbits bounced and hopped together, mingled with a few sheep and other small animals, all flowing in the same direction like they were headed to some grand, lively gathering.
Crops lined both sides of the fields, thick green leaves packed tight together, jostling for space.
Upon closer inspection, the vast majority were carrots.
Row after row, column after column, perfectly aligned as if measured with a ruler and string, stretching from the edge of the road all the way to the horizon.
It was magnificent.
Absurd.
Almost overwhelming.
Kevin and Pawbert got out of the car, and the polar bears from the vehicles behind them emerged one by one, silently falling in behind the two wolves like a wall of white fur and muscle.
Pawbert stood rooted to the spot, craning his neck so far it looked like it might snap, scanning the endless carrot fields.
Finally, he couldn’t help muttering: “So many carrots…
I’ve never seen this many in my entire life.
Not even close.” Kevin smiled, his thoughts drifting to Judy’s hundreds of siblings.
To feed a family that size, Judy’s parents must farm an absolutely staggering amount of land.
They probably weren’t ordinary small-time farmers anymore, they were full-scale agricultural merchants, the kind who supplied half the region.
As they walked, a fluffy wave of little ones suddenly surged toward them from up ahead.
Some were led by parents, others were groups of children running together, chattering and chirping like a flock of sparrows.
Their voices rang clear as scattered beans, and they all seemed to be discussing something with tremendous excitement.
“Hey kids, where are you all heading?” Kevin called out, his voice warm and friendly.
He and Pawbert stepped in front of two little rabbits and a pair of lambs, one black, one white, smiling down at them.
The youngsters, deep in animated conversation, looked up at the sound, and found themselves staring at a massive shadow looming overhead.
A great white wolf was grinning down at them, rows of gleaming, razor-sharp teeth on full display.
And behind him stood several enormous polar bears, looming like small mountains, their presence crushing, suffocating.
“AAAAH!” The little animals instantly huddled together in terror, pressing into one another and trembling violently.
One lamb was so frightened it lost control completely, a few pellets of droppings rolled out from its pant leg and tumbled onto the dusty ground.
Kevin rolled his eyes at the scene.
Was he really that terrifying?
He was handsome, damn it.
Good-looking.
Approachable.
So why did everyone keep reacting like he was some kind of monster?
The commotion quickly caught the attention of other nearby animals.
“Hey, what are you doing over there?” A sharp, reprimanding voice rang out.
The newcomer was a middle-aged rabbit, holding what appeared to be his wife’s paw.
Behind them trailed a parade of over a dozen little rabbits, strung out like a fluffy tail that just kept going and going.
The frightened children immediately recognized the voice and bolted over as if it were a lifeline, hiding behind the larger pair, clearly their parents.
“Oh, sorry, sir, ma’am,” Kevin said, immediately dropping his grin and softening his tone to something gentler, less threatening.
“We’re just passing through.
Saw there seemed to be some kind of event happening and wanted to check it out.
I really am sorry for scaring your kids.” As he spoke, he studied the couple before him.
‘Wait.
Why do they look so familiar?’ He hadn’t noticed at first, but now that he looked closely, something nagged at him, tickling the back of his mind.
Kevin leaned down, bringing his snout right up to their faces, peering at the male rabbit, then the female.
Up close, the resemblance was unmistakable.
At that, the straw-hatted rabbit’s ears shot straight up, knocking his hat clean off to the back of his head.
He instinctively stepped in front of his wife, his voice taut with alarm.
“Hey, why are you staring at my wife like that?
Bonnie, don’t worry, I’ll protect you!” Bonnie rolled her eyes and subtly kicked her husband’s slightly trembling leg.
He could talk big all he wanted, but his knees were giving him away.
Kevin’s ear twitched at the name.
Bonnie.
These were Judy’s parents, weren’t they?
“Would your last name happen to be Hopps?” Kevin asked carefully.
Hearing someone correctly name their family, Stu stopped trembling immediately.
He puffed out his chest just a little.
“Half the rabbits around here are Hoppses,” he said, a hint of pride creeping into his voice.
He bent down, picked his hat up off the ground, dusted it off, and settled it back on his head.
Though some wariness still lingered in his eyes as he looked Kevin and the polar bears up and down, his voice had calmed considerably.
“Do you know me?” “I’ve heard of the Hopps family,” Kevin said, picking up the conversational thread smoothly.
“Uh…
oh, right, I’ve actually tasted Hopps family carrots before.
That flavor is truly one of a kind.
I’ve heard only the most attentive, most diligent, most wise, and most capable farmers in all of Zootopia can grow carrots like that.” These words hit Stu right in his sweet spot.
His tail tip shot straight up, practically vibrating with pleasure, and he couldn’t hide his swelling pride.
“Of course!
You’re absolutely right.
To tell you a secret, these carrots you see stretching out for miles?
They’re actually my….” Bonnie watched her husband getting carried away and sighed, pressing a paw to her forehead in exasperation.
She grabbed Stu by the ear and yanked him firmly behind her, fixing a polite but guarded smile on her face as she addressed Kevin directly.
“Alright, sir, what exactly are you here for?” “We’re just traveling through,” Pawbert finally jumped in.
“We wanted to know what everyone’s heading to.
Looks like quite the gathering.” “It’s the Carrot Days Festival,” Bonnie explained.
“Bunnyburrow’s annual Carrot Days Festival.
There are four ticket windows when you get there.
You can’t miss them.” So that was it.
Kevin remembered, Judy had been nine years old at this very festival, performing in that play, and she’d stood on that stage and announced to everyone present that she was going to become a police officer when she grew up.
“Thanks,” Kevin said, nodding.
He thanked the couple and made to leave with Pawbert and the others.
He glanced one last time at the dozen or so children clustered behind the two adults.
Judy wasn’t among them.
Of course, he couldn’t just ask, they didn’t know him, and what would any parent think if a stranger suddenly started asking about their daughter by name?
He’d barely taken a few steps, though, when his ears caught the lowered, hushed voices drifting from behind him.
“Stu, they’re predators,” Bonnie whispered urgently.
“All the children are right here, it’s not safe.
And you’re just chatting with them like they’re neighbors?” “But…
they seemed friendly enough,” Stu muttered back, a little defensively.
“Friendly?
That white wolf is wearing a bullet shell as a necklace, Stu.
That’s no costume piece.
That’s real.
Do you really think someone like that is a good person?” Kevin smiled wryly, tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Pawbert, did you catch what they said?” he murmured.
Pawbert shook his head blankly.
“Didn’t hear a thing.
Why?” “Ah.
Guess my ears are better.” Bonnie, still quietly scolding Stu while counting the little rabbits behind her to make sure none had wandered off, didn’t notice the shadow creeping up behind them.
“Honey…
honey…” Stu tugged at her sleeve nervously.
“Don’t interrupt,” Bonnie said, shaking him off impatiently without looking up from her headcount.
He tugged again.
Finally, Bonnie turned with an exasperated huff, and found Kevin and his group hadn’t left at all.
They were standing right there.
The white wolf stood directly in front of her, slowly rubbing the bullet shell on his necklace between his fingers, his voice smooth as silk, “Right, predators are definitely unsafe.” ‘He’d heard that?
You’ve got to be kidding.’ Bonnie’s mind went blank.
She’d just badmouthed a group of large predators, predators big enough to crush her with one paw, right to their faces.
Her heart hammered against her ribs.
She instinctively looked back at the little rabbits clustered behind her, spreading her arms wide to shield them, her breathing quick and shallow.
“Relax,” Kevin said, his voice dropping to something almost lazy.
“We live in a lawful society now.
You think I’m going to eat you?” And then he crouched down, threw an arm around Stu’s shoulder, and pulled him close like they were old drinking buddies.
His tone turned warm, chummy, as if they’d been friends for ten years.
“We don’t know the way.
Mind if we join you?
You wouldn’t say no, would you?” Stu went rigid as a board in Kevin’s grip, a strangled gurgle stuck in his throat.
He couldn’t squeeze out a single word.
His eyes were wide, panicked, darting toward Bonnie for help.
Bonnie, meanwhile, stared at Kevin’s smiling, easygoing face and felt a cold chill run straight down her spine.
————•★•————★ Author Note: Thanks for reading!
🪻🪻 P@treaon: Blueduck14 (20+ chapters) Free members get access to one bonus chapter.