Fox-Drifter

“PRIVATE PROPERTY: TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED” The rusty sign nearly snapped from its posting when Andrés blasted by it. With each and every banking turn, Gazelle found herself clinging to the snowmobile for dear life. She had a suspicion the Jaguar was showing off for their starry-eyed guest, who, having barely set foot out of the Vidal household, seemed to be enjoying the time of her life. “Slow down!” Gazelle bleated into the headwind. “It’s a snowmobile, not a fighter jet!” “Oye! Ignore her, Andrés!” Cattleya shot back, lifting herself so that her mouth rested beneath his ears. “Show me what this sled can do!” Andrés spared no hesitation in his decision, only a teasing glance behind him as the snowmobile reared into the air. Cattleya cheered and wrapped herself around his leather jacket, holding the feline not because she needed to, but because she could. And Gazelle, in spite of sisterly judgment, felt just a bit glad that Andrés had ignored her request. Svalbard yard

-15 Years Ago- The snowmobile came to a skidding halt, an icy spray kicked high against the frostbitten alley in its wake. The sled, rusted and angrily sputtering, sagged low under the weight of its two occupants. “Here’s good?” the Jaguar at the helm asked, killing the engine as he turned to face the horned passenger behind him. “It’ll do,” she responded, tugging a pair of iridescent ski goggles down around her neck. She flipped her jet-black hair from her eyes and swiped some snow out of her fur. “You sure, Gacela? We’re still pretty far off,” the feline said as he struck a cigarette between his teeth. She wrinkled her nose and nodded. Smoking nauseated her; the smell, the taste. And though Andrés was hardly the only friend who’d picked up the habit, she’d suffered enough PSAs to know you’d contract cancer from so much as thinking of a cigarette. “Yeah,” she said, holding her breath. “Wouldn’t want your rattletrap waking my whole neighborhood now, would we?” He laughed, and

-9:00 AM, Cima del Cielo- Over granite peaks that sought desperately to bind the morning tide, daybreak spilled across the hidden villa. It arrived through the windows like a calvary charging unto shadow, glinting across the clothing-strewn floor and the tangled mess of sheets atop the bed. Emerging from this bedraggled fabric were a pair of spiraling horns, and not far below, a long, bushy tail. Two distinct bodies merged into one chimeric form. As the dawn settled into her eyes, Gazelle couldn’t help but whine in annoyance. Here she was in her alpine sanctuary, dozens of miles away from any semblance of her celebrity, and yet the spotlight continued to follow her. She pulled the covers over her head with a delirious huff, and for a few precious moments, returned to darkness. The singer could feel the familiar palms at her waist; sense her partner’s strength and yearning through them even in rest. She comforted in the way his scent made her melt and shiver simultaneously, and

-11:30 PM, Savanna Central- The smell of spent tobacco and cleaning products stung Judy’s nose as she waded through the shoegaze melody of that dimly lit barroom. The dense soundscape coursed through her bones like a riptide on the sea, beautiful, swirling, and violent. Blue neon lights fluttered overhead, buzzing, and blinking against cocktail glasses like fireflies on a moonless night, guiding her deeper into the frosty glow. As she walked, she passed by a moose splayed out on the bar top; six drinks shifted about him with a seventh still in hand. Two leopards dragged on cigarettes near the billiards table, handling their cue sticks like sniper rifles as they tried to sink the perfect bank shot. And in the booths a young vixen waited, sipping quietly at her lipstick-stained cosmopolitan. Judy placed herself away from the other patrons as best she could, leaping onto a vacant stool near the entrance and resting her forearms against the lacquered crosspiece. “Я могу вам помочь?”

The helicopter was an agile machine, weaving through the sky above Zootopia with incredible grace and speed. Nick stared out the window with an enraptured gaze, watching the sands of Sahara Square turn to snow as they flew beyond the climate wall. To the West, the iconic skyline of downtown Savannah Central soared across the horizon, its buildings shimmering like jewels in the dying light of the evening sun. Gazelle couldn’t help but grin as she looked at the fox across from her. “Is this your first time flying, Nick?” She said, pressing the microphone on her headset against her lips. The fox nodded. “Mom made me promise to never set foot in one of these things. The thought of flying terrified her.” He chuckled, amusement playing across his face. “But with views like these, I think she would bring herself to forgive me.” Gazelle smiled, gazing into the cloudless sky laying just beyond her fingertips. “Es cierto. to see Zootopia from the air is a magical experience. I hope she