Cont. from last issue...

After about an hour of driving in Uncle Griffin's smelly police cruiser, on which Judy showed off photos she had taken around Zootopia, Nick finally caught sight of the massive, ancient castle.

From his position hanging out of the window (where he couldn't smell the oil fumes), Nick spotted the huge structure in the distance.

The whole building was built on top of a small, grassy rise, with a large roundabout driveway stretching in front of the gargantuan carven oak doors. Its massive, thick outer wall had patches of old and patches of new stone, like it had been restored since its construction in the Middle Ages. Jagged iron spikes stuck straight up from the ridges around the walls. Built up on the higher center of the rise, the keep and inner walls stood proudly behind the outer walls. The thick stone towers soared above the outer wall, appearing to kiss the sky with their dark red tile roofs, and, while there was no moat of water circling the castle, it certainly felt extremely treacherous to peer across the massive lowered drawbridge. It was obviously an ancient construct, but it also had bits of modern technology showing here and there. A few radar and satellite dishes poked up from the tops of the towers here and there, along with countless other sensors and communications devices, reminding all who visited there that the castle really was a military base.

"Don't be so surprised, Nick," Uncle Griffin said to the fox from his position in the driver's seat. "It may seem unlikely, but the Burrows is home to some of the bravest fighters in the whole state of Animalia."

Nick nodded as he looked around at the various vestiges of warfare depicted around this gorgeous museum. A restored B5 Furman heavy tank was parked up on a large monument in the center of the roundabout driveway, its sand-blue color and Animalia State Army logo showing forth like a beacon to all who drove near. Occupying the open hatch of the turret and mounted on the outside were bronze statues of rabbits wearing Great War-era uniforms, toting Z16 rifles and leaning back to hurl the occasional paw grenade. Most impressive of all was a gargantuan bronze statue mounted on a concrete promontory in front of the huge oak doors. The statue was of a regal-looking rabbit, wearing a mix between a crown and a knight's helmet and a suit of armor that looked medieval. His paws held a sword aloft, and his ears poked out of the top of his helmet, appearing to be blowing in some sort of wind. On a massive bronze plaque on the front of the concrete promontory was inscribed, "King Budric I (The Enduring), 1268-1356, Protector and Servant of the Burrows." The inscription went on in tiny text below that was too far away for Nick to read, but he guessed it was some important information.

It was clear that there was a lot Nick did not know about the Burrows' past.

After Griffin parked the cruiser, Nick was led into the interior of the massive structure, his green eyes panning around him like a crazed TV camera-mammal.

Inside the main hallway was gallery after gallery of military artifacts. Guns, uniforms, helmets, war photographs, turrets from tanks and battleships, old aircraft... so many tributes to the greatest war ever waged in the history of the Free Lands. Rabbits, a few bears, bobcats and the occasional elephant or panther (obviously travelers) were milling about inside, all taking photos or selfies with their phones.

It also appeared that there were many ages of war history covered in the castle than just the Great War. The massive, restored medieval tapestry of a rabbit in shining armor fighting a dragon mounted over the front entryway dated at least back to the Middle Ages, if not earlier.

"It's a nice place," Nick commented, still trying to take it all in. He had never seen this many weapons and artifacts in one place before, and he had seen the Museum of Natural History's exhibits on the war back in Zootopia.

"One of the most fascinating places in the Burrows," Griffin replied, walking over to the registration desk across the lofty room. Finnick promptly wandered off, finding himself absorbed in the somewhat bloody photographs of post-battle carnage that were mounted on the walls. Finnick's favorite thing, in addition to hip-hop music and his van, was morbid imagery.

Nick and Judy were left standing all alone in the front hallway, lost in the crowd.

"Hey, um, Carrots?" Nick asked.

"Yes, Nick?" she responded, her violet eyes full of a mixture of wonder at the immense museum, worry over her Pop-Pop's fate, and determination to solve this mystery all at the same time.

"I just wanted to tell you something," Nick said calmly. "You know that my dad died when I was in college, right?"

She nodded.

"When he passed on, I had no one to grieve with," Nick explained. "My mom had already left and said she never wanted to see me again. I won't go into all the details, but I dealt with my grief in all the wrong ways. I felt that no one was going to try and help me get through it."

Judy was confused: "Why are you telling me this?"

"After seeing you go on and on about your great-grandfather; how he was a war hero and all of that," Nick replied, "I can tell you love him deeply. I felt the same way about my dad. I'm just letting you know that... if you ever need me, I'm here for you."

Judy nodded, but Nick could tell she was touched. "Okay," she said quietly.

"Nick! Judy!" Uncle Griffin called out as he walked up from the registration desk. "They've given us access to the library. We might be able to find some answers in there."

***

The library in Coneyshire Castle was housed in what was once the cavernous great hall. The space that had once been occupied by court jesters and kings was now occupied by thousands of volumes—books on the subject of military history, on the ins and outs of war machinery (Finnick found the blueprints for a Hanzi tank called the Kriegshund quite interesting, albeit the mentioned tank being unrealistically large), on troop movements and battle strategy, and many, many more subjects relating to warfare.

It was here that the foursome settled in, digging through book after book, trying to find any sort of useful information about the Battle of Dellhigh, from troop movements to eyewitness reports. Nick found it particularly difficult to sit in a rabbit-sized chair, for he was certainly larger than the seat was intended to hold.

After straining his eyes staring at the pages of The Rise and Fall of the Hanzis, Nick leaned back in his chair and turned to Griffin.

"Griffin, sir," he asked, "why are we here again?"

From his seat to Nick's left, Griffin put down his copy of A Soldier's Eye View: A Collection of Eyewitness Accounts of the Great War and turned back to Nick.

"If there's any sort of truth to Pop-Pop's crazy story," Griffin began, "then maybe we can find it in these accounts of the battle."

Off to Nick's right, Judy nodded.

"He's got a point, Nick," she agreed. "Now, let's see what this book says."

Griffin slid over to where the other two friends were seated and began to skim through the book. "Here's what I found: a description by an eyewitness of General Heinrich Wilde on the battlefield by Private Herman Longnose—one of only a thousand survivors of the destruction of the town."

Nick felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as Griffin cleared his throat and began to read.

"'As soon as the Wall blew open, the Hanzi soldiers drove up in their tanks, their black uniforms and helmets glinting in the evening sun. At the head of it all was that devil Heinrich Wilde, the general of the Eighth Legion, who had led his forces to victory in well over forty battles. His eyes shining like green flames, he stood on a high point above the town of Dellhigh with his massive, ornate sword drawn and he yelled down to us grunts hunkered down in the buildings below.'"

"Makes him sound like some kind of demon, all right," Nick admitted balefully as Griffin continued.

"'He yelled, 'Bunnies of the Burrows, my name is General Heinrich Wilde! If you surrender now, we will be merciful, but if not, then you shall burn in the Fire beyond for all eternity!' To put it mildly, we were scared. Our sarge, old Sergeant Hopps, yelled back some nasty insults. We weren't going to give up our homes for anything. Up on that ridge, we saw Wilde conferring with his superior, the obergeneral. He faltered for a minute, like he was pausing for dramatic effect, and then gave the order. The next thing we knew, an explosion had gone off right in front of us, knocking our sarge unconscious. Shells started falling down around us, and it felt like our heads would explode from all the noise. Buildings started coming down, and many of my old pals—friends I had known for years, were killed around me by flying rubble. I was the only one in my squadron, apart from the sarge, who managed to escape alive. As I rushed back to the center of town to try and find my family, buildings exploded and ruptured all around me. I got a healthy-sized scratch on my head. I looked back for a second, and General Wilde was still standing atop that promontory, gazing on as though he never gave a whit for any of the animals down where the shells were exploding. My family and I, along with about 1000 others, hid in the deep, sheltered basement of the Dellhigh town hall, waiting for death to come find us.'"

Nick sighed as Griffin finished the account. "Is that all it says?"

Griffin nodded. "Well, that's all it says about the attack on Dellhigh," he shrugged. "After that it just gets into how much he was scared and how his family tried to hide with him, along with several other civilian families. That's where the journal account of the war ends for some reason—after that it talks about the birth of his fifty-second child."

"Maybe he was too scared to relive the memories of how he escaped," Judy said quietly.

It was obvious to the others (except to Finnick, who was busy burying his nose in a vintage Captain Animalia comic book) that Nick was distraught.

"So my grand-uncle," he spoke wistfully, "was responsible for one of the most brutal destructions of civilian property in military history. I read all about the aftermath of the battle, and there were literally only three buildings standing after it all was over. Only about a thousand of the eighty thousand rabbits living in the town managed to escape."

It was then that Nick showed the others a picture in the book he had simply put down in shame. The black-and-white picture was of a red fox dressed in what appeared to be a dark military uniform and wearing an officer's cap with a kriegshund symbol emblazoned on the brim. The caption read, "General Heinrich Wilde, c. 1943, Hanzi Kleinwald."

"It's creepy how much he looks like you," Judy said as she stared at the picture in shock.

With a sigh, Nick stood up from the chair, morose and distressed.

"I guess we'd better tell Pop-Pop that he was right," he moaned. "And then... I guess I'd better see if I can somehow make amends."

Judy was astonished. "How are you supposed to make amends? Dig up all the soldiers he killed in battle and re-bury them?"

Nick shrugged. "I don't know, but I have to make this right so he doesn't die hating me."

With questions reeling in his mind like an out-of-control tornado, Nick began to walk back out to the parked police cruiser, trying to hold back the tears.

  ***  

By the time the foursome returned to the Hopps warren, Nick was burdened in an unimaginable way, practically dead to the world. He barely took notice as Finnick and Griffin gathered up their borrowed books and brought them into a small study upstairs. He subconsciously ignored the worried expressions on Stu and Bonnie's faces as they stood in the main dining area. He didn't even see Judy following him back to Pop-Pop's study. All he was thinking about was how he was related to a monster. That was one crazy thing to have floating around in his brain.

All his life, Nick had heard spooky stories about the Hanzis told by the kids in Savanna Central where he grew up. The Hanzis believed that because predators were descended from the most powerful animals on earth, they were genetically superior to all others. They believed they had a duty to direct the path of what they supposed was animal evolution, claiming that they were the progenitors of an Ultimate Breakthrough: a master race. And the Hanzis would stop at nothing to rule the world to ensure they stayed in control. If that meant slaughtering every single animal that resisted (and torturing thousands that didn't), then that was the path they would take.

They had always seemed like ghost stories, stories that felt fantastical, long-lost and old, out of touch with anything in modern life.

Now it appeared that the Hanzis' cruelty was far more real than Nick had previously thought. And to think that he was related to one of those brutes...

He shook his head and put his head in his paws, running them through his fur as he drew ever closer to the door to Pop-Pop's study. Behind him, Griffin and Finnick returned, wanting to see that the visit went well.

A tall and secretive-looking tan-and-silver-furred rabbit wearing a doctor's coat stood outside, with a closed case of medical supplies dangling from one paw.

"Doctor Wells, I presume?" Nick asked as he shook paws with the doctor. Finnick chuckled behind him, although Nick wasn't trying to be funny.

"Yes," the doctor responded. "If you're here to make your last goodbyes, then you'd better say them fast."

"Is he in that poor condition?" Judy asked, a look of intense worry on her face.

"I'm afraid so," Doctor Wells pronounced, and Judy made an audible gasp of despair. Uncle Griffin put his paw on her shoulder to comfort his niece.

"As you know," the good doctor explained, "myxomatosis attacks the brain and causes all internal systems to shut down. I've already run some tests with the equipment I brought, and his lungs are shutting down. He's losing his ability to breathe. There's nothing more I can do."

"How long does he have, Doctor Wells?" Griffin asked somberly.

"I don't know," the doctor admitted as he stood aside. "I suggest you go in now, to say your goodbyes."

Judy nodded, although Nick could tell she was blinking back tears.

Pop-Pop was resting when she popped her head through the door.

"Pop-Pop?" she called softly. The old rabbit's eyes fluttered open, and even Nick had pangs of sorrow for the old rabbit. His nasal discharge, a bit more profuse than before, was encrusted to his twitching nose. The weepiness of his eyes reminded Nick of those of an old blind cat that had wandered around his neighborhood when he was younger—gross and utterly overflowing. His breathing was labored and his ears twitched like they were having spasms. It was more obvious than the black tips of Judy's ears that Otto Zaphod Hopps was dying.

"Pop-Pop?" Judy called again, and the old rabbit's piercing blue eyes fluttered open.

"Trudy," he rasped. Hearing the old rabbit's sickly, gurgling voice gave Nick chills and pangs of sorrow wringing his heart. "Come closer, Trudy."

Judy closed the door behind them and stepped over to her great-grandfather's bedside.

"Yes, Pop-Pop?"

"You heard I'm dying, I assume?" he rasped.

"Yes."

"That old steamer trunk in the basement, Trudy... make sure you get it. There's something in it for you."

Judy was puzzled. "What do you mean?" she asked, her face contorted in confusion.

The old rabbit sighed. "Don't bother yourself with that now, Trudy," he rasped. "You have all the time in the world to go and do things none of us bunnies could ever do."

He gently, tenderly, slowly took ahold of Judy's paw.

"Don't you let that fox bother you none," he whispered. "I couldn't imagine what I would do if I saw that fox and I were ten years younger. I won't forgive that devil!"

His old green eyes crackled with an old, dry, gnarled bitterness; one that revealed wounds so deep and old that Nick feared they would never heal.

But he had to try.

"I'm sorry you had to see me so angry, Trudy," Pop-Pop whispered. "But I want to make sure that you aren't hurt like I was—my little Trudy."

"I love you, Pop-Pop," Judy said quietly, as though it were the last thing she would say to him.

"I love you too, Trudy," the old rabbit sighed as he closed his eyes and rested. The moving up and down of his chest indicated he was still among the living.

After a silence that seemed painful enough to kill, Nick quietly stepped forward and stood on the opposite side of Judy. He took a deep breath before speaking, obviously pained to do so.

"Well... Pop-Pop..." Nick began. "It turns out your crazy story wasn't so crazy after all. My grand-uncle, Heinrich Wilde, really was a Hanzi general. He really did all of those terrible things. He really did decimate the entire town of Dellhigh, save for about a thousand survivors. That included your family. It was all true."

Here Nick took a deep breath, and Judy could see the tears in his eyes.

"But I wanted to let you know that what my ancestor did doesn't define who I am," he continued, beginning to choke up. "What my grand-uncle did doesn't define who I am. I don't know how I can give you back anything you've lost, but... I am not my grand-uncle, and... I came here to beg your forgiveness."

Nick placed his paw on the sleeping Pop-Pop's arm as tears began to slide down the sides of his foxy face, leaving tiny rivulets in his fur.

"Please," he whispered, "please forgive my ancestor. Forgive my family name. Forgive me. Please..."

Nick repeated this over and over and over again, as though saying it would somehow magically heal old Otto Hopps. After a few minutes of doing this, he looked up to see that Pop-Pop's demeanor had not changed. The tiny, burning ember of hope that had flickered in Nick's chest was instantly extinguished.

"Come on, Nick," Judy said, quietly leading her friend out of the room. Nick closed his eyes as he tried to hold back hot, stinging tears.

    ***    

Judy and Nick walked solemnly back to the aboveground part of the Hopps warren. Neither of them were very rosy-minded about the next few hours. At least Judy got to say goodbye to Pop-Pop, Nick told himself. It was more than some of the others would get a chance to do before... well, the inevitable.

That night at supper, Nick stared morosely into the crust of the specially-made blueberry pie from Gideon Grey's Real Good Baked Stuff. Usually, his mouth would have been overcome by saliva and his mind would have gone a bit swimmy at the smell. But how could he think about the taste of pie and blueberry in light of everything that had happened within the past twenty-four hours?

Despite his rough and sarcastic exterior, Nick really was very sensitive. Whenever someone had a grudge against another animal, or when they held onto stubbornness, it ate him up inside. The feeling of knowing someone was going to withhold forgiveness from him was enough to set his stomach turning.

Since Nick had already stayed now past eight o'clock at night, he eventually decided to stay for a couple of days, feeling a need to stick by Judy through rain or shine. He also was assured by Finnick that the changes of clothes in the van (left over from their con-artist days) available for any situation.

As Judy was leading him to a spare room on one of the higher floors, the two were suddenly stopped by Uncle Griffin and Finnick, both of whom were wearing excited grins on their muzzles.

"Nick! You're both not going to believe this! You are just not going to believe this!" Griffin exclaimed.

"What's up, Uncle Griffin?" Judy asked, confused as to why her uncle was so excited.

Finnick grinned and held up a yellowed sheet of paper he was carrying in his paw.

"Let's just say that this whole issue can be cleared up like Brayjax clears up mold on tiles," Finnick said, using his usually strange sense of humor to make his point.

Nick stared at the piece of paper for a second and then gingerly took it. His green eyes raced across the sheet of paper.

It appeared to be some kind of letter, and it had a small, black-and-white photograph paper-clipped to the outside. Nick then began to read it aloud, and the other three animals peered over his shoulder, eager to see what the letter had to say.

Dear Jess,

You must first understand that survivors of the events of the Battle of Dellhigh have been sworn to secrecy, so I cannot use our rescuer's proper name. We couldn't find the sarge—my dad—so a heavy burden lays on all of us as we presume him killed in action. My mother and two of my brothers and six of my sisters also were counted among the lost. I'm the last one of my family known to be living. We spent hours hiding in the tunnels under the town hall, and the shelling finally stopped after sunset. We could tell by the rumble of tanks overhead that the Hanzis were pushing through into our territory. Everyone was on edge, and we half expected the tanks to come down on top of us. Along about midnight, when he was patrolling what was left of the city (not much, it turned out), Private Howard spotted a mysterious visitor—a mysterious red fox wearing some kind of hood. The fox, in a husky Kleinwaldian accent growled a warning: the Hanzis were going to go through the town in just a short while with flamethrowers to ensure that no survivors were left. If we didn't hurry up and follow him to escape, we'd all be either roasted alive or thrown in a death camp back in Kleinwald. Despite the wariness we all had about this fox, we soon discovered that he was more than right as we were chased by two Hanzi soldiers carrying dreaded the flamethrowers. Once the hooded fox had dealt with the soldiers, he led us into Tucker's Woods on the border of Dellhigh, out of sight of all but God. Two hours into our trek, our mysterious emancipator let us rest near a road. It was there that he left us, but shortly before he did, he explained something to us: that we were not to, under any circumstances, reveal the name of our rescuer. He had been cut to the heart by the brutality his soldiers had shown that day on the battlefield, and had had what most animals call a change of heart. He was a now former Hanzi general, and he certainly looked familiar. It was only after I got a look at his massive sword with its wolf's head around the blade that I recognized who he was. Enclosed is a partial photograph (it was the only one he'd let us take) that will show you just how big a redemption this was. He went from brutal monster to concerned rescuer, and all of us said silent prayers of joy and thanks. After telling us how to reach the main road back to a safer location away from the front, he disappeared into the night, vowing to help do whatever he could to destroy the Hanzis' brutal rule from the inside out. We're all being welcomed by the citizens of Podunk now, and given some provisions, but I can't wait to see your face on the farm back in the Chordatas, Jess. It won't be long. I'm coming home. Please wait for me. Tell the other Hoppses back in Bunnyburrow that I love them.

Love,

Your Oscar

"Does that signature say 'Oscar'?" Judy asked, eyes widening.

"It most certainly does," Griffin whispered in awe.

"And is the letter addressed to someone named Jess? Short for Jessie?"

Nick nodded.

"What does this mean, Carrots?" he asked, not following.

"Oscar and Jessie Hopps were my grandparents," Judy breathed.

Nick's eyes widened.

"SAY WHAT?!" Finnick yelled, a little too loud for his own good.

"I remember now," Judy whispered, "my grandfather Oscar told me he was one of the few survivors of the Battle of Dellhigh. His wife—then girlfriend—Jessie was waiting for him back in the Chordata Mountains. Shortly after they reunited, they married and soon had their first litter of little bunnies, one of whom was my dad!"

Nick's mind had been knocked into a kaleidoscoping state, the full realization of everything Judy was telling him beginning to set in.

He then turned his attention to the photograph. Although he could not make out the face of the fox in question, Nick's eye caught the sword attached to his dark grey uniform by an ornately-decorated scabbard. The hilt of the sword was a jewel-encrusted ceremonial blade, with two gemstones set in the eyes of a snarling wolf's head. The wolf's head looked like that of a primordial predator, ready to unleash all manner of savagery on any animal the sword came in contact with.

"Wait a second," Nick said, digging out his phone and handing the letter to Judy. "I know that sword! I know that sword!"

Like he had been injected with a speed-enhancing drug, Nick began scrolling through his photo reel until he finally found one; a selfie he took with his mother at the Zootopia Times. Hanging on the wall behind his smiling, red-furred mother was the same ornate sword as in the photograph.

"That sword," he explained, pointing to the photograph, "was in the box of stuff from my grand-uncle Heinrich that my mom took to decorate her office when I was in college!"

Now Judy's mind was reeling, and, like Shearlock Holmes, the great ram detective of Zootopia's oldest literature, she began listing a series of logical conclusions.

"So," she began, "the mysterious rescuer mentioned in the letter was Heinrich Wilde. Heinrich Wilde saved a thousand refugees from one of the bloodiest battles ever in the Great War. If he hadn't saved my grandfather Oscar, who was among those refugees, he never would have married my grandmother Jessie. If he hadn't married Jessie, then he wouldn't have had their son Stu Hopps. And if he hadn't had his son Stu Hopps, I, Judith Laverne Hopps, would never have been born!"

Finnick snickered. "Your middle name is Laverne?"

The implications of what Judy was saying were astronomical. Because of something Nick's ancestor did, a life was destroyed, that of Otto Hopps, and a life was preserved, that of Oscar Hopps. Judy was alive because of his grand-uncle's heroic deeds. And since the author of the letter, Oscar Hopps, was sworn to secrecy by Heinrich Wilde, Pop-Pop never learned of the incredible rescue.

"We have to tell Pop-Pop!" Judy exclaimed, folding up the letter and dashing back down the stairs towards Pop-Pop's room. Behind her, Nick, Finnick and Uncle Griffin broke into long lopes trying to catch up.

As she ran to the open door to Pop-Pop's room, Judy began to call out to him.

"Pop-Pop! You're not going to believe this! General Wilde wasn't a monster after all! He saved thousands of refugees and—"

Judy stopped, almost crashing into Doctor Wells, who was shaking his head sadly.

Bonnie and Stu were both standing off to one side, wrapped in each other's arms as they wept like children. A frantic look to Doctor Wells' somber face told Judy that they were too late.

Pop-Pop was gone.

"No... no..." Judy breathed, her violet eyes wide and full of despair.

Nick was equally shocked, his mind reeling as Judy began to silently cry over the loss of her great-grandfather.

      ***      

A few days later, the assembled Hopps clan traveled a few miles away from their warren to the massive Bunnyburrow Community Church.

Set inside an earthen dome, the church was large enough to even rival the gargantuan Crystal Church in downtown Zootopia; providing seating space for up to five thousand rabbits. The Way-followers' tri-cross symbol mounted over the large wooden pulpit appeared to hover mid-air on the thin wires. It was warm inside, the cozy-warm heat generated by furnace vents. This heat was trapped by the wondrously open dome giving the gathered worshipers inside a sense of peace. The music from the large organ, made of twisting, turning tubes that ran throughout the underground structure, caused the majority of animals within to sway their heads to the music.

The services provided were beautiful. Otto Zaphod Hopps' coffin was laid on a large pedestal, hand-carved and stained with images of the Animalian flag, and other wartime imagery denoting his status as a war hero. Sandy-blue and white floral arrangements were arranged across the entire crescent-shaped dais—Pop-Pop's favorite colors. It was a funeral he would have been proud of.

As Nick sat in the pew with several of the other Hopps clan members, dressed in a dark blue shirt and tie that Finnick had carried around in the van, his mind was lost even to the tunes of classic hymns like "Creator, Take Me Home." He spotted the remarkably stoic Judy. After she sat in shock in the bathroom for a couple hours after Pop-Pop's death, Nick could see that she hadn't been crying or doing any of the other things her other family members had been doing.

She sat just a couple pews ahead of him, between her two adoring parents, dressed all in dark colors. Those colors certainly reflected Nick's current mindset of intense internal conflict. He couldn't understand any of it—everything that had happened in the past few days had happened with lightning-bolt speed. Just a couple days ago, it was morning as usual at the ZPD, and now he was sitting in a mega-church in Bunnyburrow witnessing Judy go through some of the darkest days in her life.

He still couldn't understand why she didn't seem to be grieving. Nick had known Judy to try and be the tough one, but she was so still and almost peaceful, seeming to be indifferent to her great-grandfather's death.

After Uncle Griffin's rendition of Matthew Woof's "Forgiveness," Judy and several other members of the Hopps clan shared heartwarming memories, and it reminded Nick of something he had been told once by Judy: "When a clan gains a member, they rejoice as one, and when a clan loses a member, they grieve as one." That was why all of the Hopps clan, even those who didn't know Pop-Pop as well as Judy did, had assembled there today.

It was then that black-furred Reverend Furler stood up and gave a final speech.

"We've all lost a dear friend today," he said soothingly into the microphone, "and there is no one more upset than I. In all the time I knew Otto Hopps, I found him to be an incredibly wise, wonderfully sociable and kindly rabbit, despite his stubborn and tenacious exterior. While he certainly held onto bitterness, he always did try to connect with his family. We all knew he loved his great-granddaughter Judy like no other in the Hopps clan. We also knew he was a committed Way-follower, devoted to this church and his faith to the end. However, his life also reminds us of the consequences of bitterness, for I have been told his anger has caused a rift between another family and his own. But no matter what, he always did his best to try and let things go. Perhaps that's something we should try to emulate so we can stand before the Creator unashamed and unblemished."

After one last hymn (called "Undying Love"), Otto Hopps' coffin was hefted up by four church elders and carried across the sanctuary. Some of the rabbits began to follow the small procession through a pair of oak double doors that led further underground. There, Nick was told, they would place Otto's coffin inside a gargantuan earthen crypt where all rabbits were buried—deep in the ground they lived under all their lives.

On his way back to the surface, Nick caught up to Stu.

"Hey, Stu," he asked, "are you two going down to see the coffin put in the crypt?"

Stu shook his head.

"Bonnie and I should get back to the house," he said, indicating his still relatively weepy wife.

"Well, if anyone asks where I am," Nick implored, "let them know that I'm just going to go for a walk. I just need some time... to be alone."

Stu nodded and then led his personal clutch of rabbits away, heading back to their home.

        ***        

Nick walked in silence, alone with his thoughts, along an old dirt trail that led into the woods surrounding the church. His eyes never left the ground, his ears and tail drooping, indicating that he was deeply troubled.

He was troubled for a number of reasons. He was troubled because he spent hours dragging his friends all over the Burrows, trying to prove he wasn't related to a brutal, savage killer rather than staying with Judy in her time of grief. He was troubled because he had made it so Judy never had a chance to say goodbye to her great-grandfather, not before he died, anyway.

But most of all, he was troubled because they had finally found the evidence they needed far too late to help Pop-Pop forgive. For all Nick knew, the old rabbit had died with hatred for all foxes in his heart, but more specifically, hatred for Nick Wilde.

And it was enough to pierce his heart like an arrowhead.

After hours of roaming aimlessly through the woods (he had no idea how long he was gone), Nick eventually came to an old stone bridge over a small creek. The sunlight filtered through the branches of the trees above him and dappled across the aged cobblestone surface. Leaning against the wooden rail, he stared at the peacefully gurgling stream that looked like the world's biggest diamond was beneath the cold, clear water. It was almost therapeutic, he found out, and he soon became totally lost to the world around him.

"Mind if I join you, Nick?"

He turned his foxy head and saw Judy, dressed in the same outfit she had been wearing since earlier that morning: a dark grey wool dress that fell down to her knees. She stood on the bridge, the sunlight shining down on her grey fur. This was the first time Nick had ever seen her in a dress, and he thought she looked quite pretty as she walked over and joined him.

"That's a nice dress," Nick said, treating it like a greeting.

"Thank you," Judy said as she fingered the ruffles of her skirt. "I haven't worn it in ages, but it still fits me."

It was then that she put her velvety little paw on his arm.

"Nick, there's something I need to tell you," she said quietly. "About Pop-Pop."

Nick turned to face her, still leaning on the railing. She stood in the middle of the cobblestone pathway and began to speak.

"Pop-Pop, um... he, uh..." Judy stammered as she obviously called up some painfully emotional memories. Nick thought for a second he saw tears flickering in the sunlight in Judy's big violet eyes.

"Carrots, are you going to be okay?" he asked.

After pushing down whatever was bubbling up inside her, Judy nodded.

"I think I'll be fine," she pronounced. "Mom just spoke to me a while ago, and... I was just as shocked as she was to hear it."

Nick gave his Carrots a confused expression.

"About twenty minutes after we left Pop-Pop's room for the last time," Judy explained, "Mom came in to give him some more medication, and as she was giving it to him, she heard him whisper something."

She smiled, though her eyes were full of pain and sorrow.

"He whispered 'I forgive him,'" she finished. "Those were his last words. I guess your pleas for forgiveness were heard by my Pop-Pop."

Nick was totally taken aback. In all his years, Nick never would have guessed the old rabbit would have ever given up his bitterness. A wave of relief washed across Nick's mind and soul, snuffing out the feelings of confusion and regret and fear and pain. All he felt was a lasting peace and a joy that was bringing tears to his own eyes.

"That's all I wanted to tell you," Judy said, although her voice was breaking. Those tears in her eyes came back once more.

"Carrots," Nick asked calmly, "are—are you sure you're going to be OK?"

"Yes, I—" Judy was about to say something when she choked on her own emotion. "No," she finally got out, "I— I don't think I am..."

And then she began to cry.

Nick had only ever seen Judy cry once before, shortly after a falling out the two of them had had during the days of the Bellwether Conspiracy. And now her face was contorted, her eyes dripped forth tears and her chest heaved with sobs in the exact same manner as it had back then. She hid her face in her paws and continued to cry.

Nick extended his arms, and, rushing to him and burying her face in his chest, Judy continued to weep into Nick's dark shirt and tie. He felt the water from her eyes seeping through and warming that spot on his chest. Slowly, gently, he embraced the little weeping bunny.

"It's OK, Carrots," he whispered, now beginning to cry as well, "I'm here. I'm—I'm here."

And then he did something even he himself wouldn't have expected to do just a few short months ago.

He gave Judy a kiss on her forehead.

It would have felt strange for him to do so just a couple weeks ago, but now...

Judy continued to weep into Nick's chest, her entire body trembling. All the while, Nick continued to whisper words of comfort into her long, fuzzy ears, rocking her back and forth like he was holding a small child. His own tears fell down his muzzle, leaving rivulets of tears in his reddish fur—tears of sympathy, of relief and of grief for his little friend's loss.

And at last, Nick's heart confirmed the feelings he had long been trying to work through. In fact, especially in light of the new information he had discovered, he began to feel peace over this whole thing.

And he fell helplessly, hopelessly, irrevocably in love with the little rabbit.

          ***          

After Uncle Griffin came and found the two animals, who were now just sitting on the bridge, Nick approached him. Judy, meanwhile, headed back to Finnick's van to prepare to return to Zootopia later that afternoon.

"Sir?" Nick asked Griffin, a nervous look on his face.

"Yes, Nick?" Griffin replied.

"Can I, um, talk with you for a minute?"

Griffin nodded as he and Nick stepped away from the path. Nick seemed nervous. He was wringing his paws.

"Before we begin," Nick implored, "I'd rather you keep this secret. I just don't want everyone to know about this just yet."

Uncle Griffin nodded.

"What's up, Nick?" he asked, slightly concerned.

"Well," Nick began, still slightly awkward, "I have discovered something over the past few months. I'm in love with a prey animal."

Uncle Griffin seemed surprised.

"Really?" he asked, looking a little shocked.

"It's been a bit of a roller-coaster for me," Nick admitted, "and it all started shortly after the Bellwether Conspiracy—you may have heard about it on the news. Judy and I have been through a lot together as officers for the Zootopia Police Department, and what started as a casual friendship began to shift and it felt a little bit awkward at first but... after I read through a story she and I found together, I began to wonder if I was just being too scared. Turns out that I'm not the only one who feels this way about a prey animal."

"And who are you in love with, Nick?" Griffin asked, but the smile on his face told Nick he'd already figured it out.

"Judy means the world to me," he said with a serious tone in his voice. "She's kind, she's sweet, she's compassionate, and might I add, quite adorable. But she's also strong and brave. And I can't deny that I love her more than as a friend."

Uncle Griffin chuckled. "A dichotomy hasn't been seen hide nor hair of since Silverfur the Great; much less a pred-prey dichotomy. It's a rare thing—and I mean raaaaare—but I like you, Nick, and I see the way you look at my niece; you know, that kind of glazed-over look in your eyes. If you really are committed to her like a fisher to his catch, then I'd be as pleased as punch to know Judy's in such good paws."

Nick blinked.

"Are you saying yes, sir?" he asked, his eyes full of hope.

Griffin smiled a fatherly smile.

"Of course, Nick," he said, "I wouldn't be saying all that if I wasn't."

Nick took in a deep breath as he came to grips with what Uncle Griffin was saying. He had long worried and fretted over whether or not he was doing the right thing, and now, a strong sense of determination to be committed to his Carrots washed over his heart.

"Thank you, Griffin," he whispered. "I will be committed to her. But how long do you think I should wait until I... you know, try to spend time with her?"

"Personally," Griffin said, a serious look on his face, "I think you've already been spending time with her. More so over the past few days. But, it's up to you, Nick."

After a long pause, during which Nick mulled over this decision, he finally responded.

"I think... I'm going to wait. For a while, anyway. I'm not really sure how to put this into words."

Griffin nodded.

"You want to work out your own feelings," he responded. "I respect that. It's what I did with my wife before we got married."

Nick reddened.

"Um, married?" he chuckled nervously, caught a little off-guard by Griffin's comment. He hadn't even thought of anything reaching that level of closeness.

It was then that Griffin broke out laughing.

"Don't worry, Nick," he laughed, "I understand that you want to wait a while. It's admirable of you to do so."

Nick's embarrassment immediately died.

"Thank you, Griffin," he repeated again.

Griffin shook his head as he put his paw on Nick's shoulder.

"To you, Nick, it's Griff," he assured him with a fatherly tone. "Everyone calls me either Griff or Unc-Unc, and you should, too."

"Very well, then," Nick affirmed. "Thank you, Griff."

Griffin then smiled a mischievous smile as he tapped Nick on the shoulder.

"Hey," he whispered, "you got a pet name for her yet?"

Nick nodded. "I call her Carrots," he admitted.

Griffin did a double take and he started laughing a long, hard laugh.

"Really? 'Carrots?'" he asked again, still laughing.

"What's so funny?" Nick asked, not understanding Griffin's behavior.

"Last I heard," Griffin said, still laughing, "she hated that nickname. I called her that all the time just to rile her up when she was just a young'un."

Nick suddenly realized why she seemed so annoyed that he called her Carrots that first time, all that time ago, and he began to laugh. As he and Griffin shared laughter, it somehow took away some of the stress and pain that Nick had been through over the past couple of days.

Suddenly, he heard a loud, blaring horn from across the way. Finnick's van.

"I have to go," Nick said, collecting himself enough to dash for the van. Uncle Griffin waved goodbye Nick ran off. Nick still couldn't get over his amazement at the Creator's wonders and provision as he flew across the green countryside of Bunnyburrow.

            ***            

Nick didn't feel quite so weird and awkward in situations whenever his feelings for Judy came up anymore. He was deeply in love with her, but he knew that he had to wait and continue to be patient for anything to go anywhere. His father had once told him that good things come to those who wait.

That idea fit perfectly with this whole situation.

As Nick rode back to the climate-controlled city of Zootopia in Finnick's van, he continued to contemplate everything that had happened over the past couple of days. As Finnick (quietly) listened to his Trip Lemur CDs out of respect for Judy, Nick renewed his vow to commit himself to her. He noticed that she had fallen asleep in the backseat, her long, fluffy ears not even registering the weird bass and strange-sounding vocals of the rap music emanating from the speaker systems. She was leaning up against the door and Nick had to admit, she had good reason to be tired. Good thing the ZPD was giving her a personal week off to recuperate from her loss.

"I'm going to be here for you, Carrots," he whispered softly. "If you ever need me, I'll be here."

The End