Theirs And Ours - Zootopia / Zistopia - By PseudoFox

"Did you know that you really can tell, most of the time, if a song was first written on piano versus written on guitar or on something else?" Nick Wilde asked, shifting over to the side on the bench. The three small rabbits off to his side shook their heads. One of them brushed his paws against his large yellow ribbon around one of his ears. "It's interesting, actually. If you've got something with this jaunty, bouncy feel that's really heavy on the power chords--" The fox tapped a bunch of keys on the grand piano, leaning over and letting himself make a toothy grin. "Then it just screams 'piano'. The 'baroque' kind of things your dad listens to is a perfect example."

"That's <em>really</em> cool," muttered the ribbon-marked rabbit, hopping onto the opposite side of the bench.

The moment of strong exertion that followed, Nick wiggling his head about and really slamming down on those keys. meant absolutely nothing to the collar going around the fox's neck. Permanently modified into only showing a green light weeks and weeks ago, the Hopps families' tinkering coupled with his own bravery working wonders, Nick barely remembered that he still had it on as he went about his days. That, by itself, was a little miracle given the circumstances.

Nick stopped, making a big smile. The amount of teeth that he showed, not even bothering to think about it, would have been unthinkable not long ago. Yet none of the rabbits cared as they drank in his excitement. However, a call from outside of the room caused the little ones to turn tail and hop out.

Nick paused to gaze around the living room, looking at the various knick-nacks on the shelves as well as the many pictures and delicately made knittings. He then stepped out of the door, ducking carefully, as he took in the bright afternoon sunshine. Walter Hopps, who always joked about being somebody's 'first cousin, once removed' or 'third cousin, twice removed' as if no family could take him in entirely, waved from across a small green field. Nick waved back, adjusting his eyes to the light, and he picked up the hoe resting against the side of the worn wooden door. The fox made his way over and quietly shoved the hoe into a patch of ground.

"Any news lately?" Nick remarked, re-surveying the plot of land.

"They're changing one of those signs just a stone's throw up ahead," Walter replied, tilling the soil yet barely sweating.

"They should let me do it," Nick said, pulling his hoe over perpendicular to the rabbit, "probably be faster."

"Eh, the Johnsons' are still a bit wary of you popping up right in front of their garden still, even if it's nothing but friendly waves otherwise," Walter remarked. Seeing Nick pause, making a little frown, he just smiled and waved idly in the air. "Give them less than a week. I heard their newest daughter blabbing in the air about wanting to just grab and swing from your tail."

Time passed the same way it usually did around that little patch of land. The section didn't really count as part of a farm, per se, but functioned as a half gardening and half planting project for that chunk of the Hopps family. The bunny and fox stopped to rest in the shade of a huge oak after not too long, both of them sweating lightly.

"I'll probably get going to pick up my wife in a few," Walter said, brushing a handkerchief upon his forehead, "but I'm counting on you to help with the last of these tomato seeds here, Nick."

The fox simply nodded, letting himself zone out as he leaned against a moss-covered hunk of rocks. They had gotten a pretty solid amount of work done in a rather short amount of time. Nick also thought that, after all, they'd more than enough foodstuffs squared away from the farm proper to last and last.

"I might take her to by those two new restaurants along West 2nd Street," Walter went on, looking over at a bunny walking out in the distance toward them, "I've heard some things. Not good things, mind you, but things."

"Oh?" Nick smiled, brushing his neck a bit with his right paw.

"There's Chester's and there's Steve's. The line that's been going around is: 'You step into whichever one, grab yourself the lunch special, and then you find yourself walking out wishing you'd gone to the other one.'" The rabbit raised an eyebrow and brought a paw upon the fox's shoulder.

Nick chucked, nodding once again. It was bone dry humor, but he'd gotten well used to that hanging out with this particular crowd of small fluffy ones. They both then looked out as Juliet Hopps, the sunshine brightly coming down on that bunny's spotted pink and white dress, showed up beside them.

"Tray of lemonades for both of you," she said, the fox and the rabbit each clutching one.

"Between you and me, if you're heading out and giving me plenty of time with the last bit of land, I'm probably going to relax at the swing over there," Nick remarked. He made his way over and took a seat on the rickety wood and metal contraception, held up between two big weeping willows. He gave a friendly wave to Walter, who gestured back and smiled before just heading out atop the cobblestone trail.

"Mind if I join you?" asked Juilet, hopping over and standing on a big patch of clovers beside the old swing. Nick looked out for a moment at the breeze lightly blowing upon the rabbit's face. Her big blue eyes and wrinkled face showed a combination of knowing age and deep care that the fox felt glad to have seen in so many bunnies.

"<em>Sure</em>," Nick responded, patting down on the wood. The rabbit popped up right beside him. They both simply looked out at the countryside, idly swinging away. Time went on a bit more, the breeze getting a bit stronger.

"This is nice," Juliet said after a while. Nick just nodded. Before he knew it, the older rabbit had leaned up and rested against his right arm and shoulder. He said nothing back, feeling so comfortable at the swinging motion that he leaned himself in her direction as well. Nearly falling asleep after just a few minutes, the both of them breathing easy, her paw rested down upon his leg and her head on his chest. He didn't even notice it anymore in just about no time. The country breeze felt like a happy caress upon both of their bodies.

"This is really nice," Nick whispered to himself. Yet a little move of a branch against his neck-- a soft brush that anywhere else he wouldn't have cared about-- made him suddenly aware of his deactivated collar for the first time in a long time. "Nice..." Horrible, depressing visions of the past that he'd tried to keep shoved far, <em>far</em> in the back of his mind popped up like daises.

He relived seeing parents screaming at their young children to stay away from the big fences as the freezing rain poured down all over them and angry mammals held up their guns on the other side. His senses brought back the first time the sharp bites of electricity had rippled across his body-- the feeling of something like a mouth full of burning sandpaper, pain melting through his teeth, remaining as vivid as ever. Yet the snapshots flashing in front of his mind, something that hadn't happened in such a long while, suddenly stopped.

Juliet, well asleep, dreamed something that caused her to shift her head a bit to the side and rub against Nick's chest with her ears. The fox took in the soft touches as he drew in a deep breath. He visualized brushing his paws against his eyes, trying to just wipe off the memories away. He made himself think back to rabbit after rabbit that he'd snuggled with the past few days alone-- happy paw-shakes, affectionate hugs, and everything else functioning as a mental blanket.

"And it shouldn't end." He felt his eyes squinting as if he might start crying. "It <em>won't</em> end." He closed his eyes instead and tried to fall completely asleep. The Hopps families made their choice, and that was that. He was theirs. Far more importantly, more powerfully to put into words, they were his.