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It started—as it often did—with a conversation during a stakeout.
Staring at the warehouse of Moosewell’s Best Marshmallows was about as interesting as watching fur grow, but not anything they couldn’t handle. Nick and Judy’s assignment involved waiting on unusual deliveries, taking notes, then heading home.
They’d thrown popcorn at each other to see who could catch the most kernels (Judy won), read aloud the newly-revised ZPD Patrol Guide (with Nick’s snarky commentary), and gone through an entire three-hour playlist on Spotify. They had just finished their third round of Twenty Questions and started up a game of tic-tac-toe on the back of some leftover ticket paper when Nick gave a sigh.
“What d’you think they do with the marshmallows once they buy them?” he asked, marking an X in the center square.
Judy picked a square at random and drew an O. “If you were listening in the bullpen, Bogo says they’re putting catnip inside.”
“Seems a shame to waste perfectly good marshmallows.” He made another X.
“Marshmallows are only good for s’mores,” she said as she drew another O.
“I wouldn’t know.”
Judy looked up. “You haven’t tried them?”
Nick shrugged. “Never went camping.” He scribbled another X and drew a line through his three-in-a-row.
Judy was too stunned at her partner’s admission to complain. “You…you’ve never gone camping?”
“One of the many things I missed out on when quitting the Ranger Scouts.” He grinned his ‘don’t-worry-about it’ smile that Judy saw right through. “Unless you count sleeping overnight under a bridge.”
When put that way, she admitted it shouldn’t have surprised her. Nick was the model of a city fox. Country bunnies lived, well, in the country. Her family had camped away every summer growing up, somewhere they could reserve a whole campsite, with dozens of colored tents erected like a rainbow village.
“Did you…did you ever want to?” she asked, ignoring the heat crawling up her ears.
Nick glanced at her, now with the easy smile he had just for her. “Sure, Carrots. I’d camp with you in a heartbeat.”
Just then, an unlicensed van pulled up, and they set the conversation aside while they observed one of the assistant managers—a scrawny-looking wolf—bring out several crates bursting with marshmallows.
***
Judy never did things by halves. Once she got it in her head that going camping with Nick sounded like an amazing idea, she spent weeks planning it out and looking for the perfect site. She didn’t want Nick to have a regular, boring trip–it should be the ultimate camping experience. She wanted him to have so much fun he’d grin and ask to do it every year.
So, one morning in summer, Judy strolled to Nick’s desk with a blueberry ice latte in one paw and her carrot cake frappe in the other, a wide grin on her face.
Nick looked up and raised an eyebrow. “What d’you want?”
“What?” She leaned in with an innocent look. “I can’t bring my favorite partner his favorite coffee for absolutely no reason?”
He eyed the offered drink with suspicion. “No. So what’s up?”
She gave a frustrated sigh. “Well, fine.” She set down her frappe and pulled a brochure from her back pocket. “Check this place out,” she announced, passing it and the latte to him.
“‘Ursa Lake’?” he read aloud. “What’s this, Carrots?”
“You said you wanted to go camping!” she said. “So, I thought we could go here.”
Ursa Lake National Park had everything. Campsites, an enormous lake for swimming and fishing, hiking trails to see birds, and an island you could canoe to where herons went to hatch their eggs. All that was missing was rock-climbing, but she supposed that wasn’t required for Nick’s first time.
After pointing out every inch of the brochure, she turned to him with anticipation. “So, what d’you think?” she asked.
The stunned silence dragged on. “I…well, I didn’t expect that.”
Judy’s ears drooped. “I thought…you said you wanted to.”
He rubbed his neck with a sigh. “I know.”
Judy rallied. “Don’t worry! It’ll be fun. I’ll be with you the whole time.”
Nick mulled it over, then finally offered her a small grin. “Will we roast marshmallows?”
Judy beamed. “Of course!”
***
And a month later, they took the drive in Judy’s family truck to Ursa Lake, the truck bed filled with their gear and then some. Nick had let Judy pack for him, and she’d had a hell of a time finding a sweater within the collection of Pawaiian shirts in his closet.
Her family had been generous, letting her borrow two tents, a cast-iron pan, and most other necessities. Nick had handled the food from a long list she had prepared.
Leaving the city behind them was like being freed of a suffocating weight. While she considered Zootopia her home now, the hustle and bustle and the constant traffic had been fraying her nerves for ages. A trip outdoors would do her good.
They drove past trees and fields for almost an hour before they reached the mountains, listening to Nick’s new “camping trip” playlist.
Upon their arrival at the check-in cabin, a goat older than her Pop-Pop peppered her with questions of their plans and then snickered at her answers. Finally, she took their car ticket, and he announced the park had a burn ban.
Judy started. “A burn ban?”
The goat nodded. “Ain’t rained for weeks. So, no fires in the firepits. Hope yeh brought a gas grill.”
Judy nodded uncertainly. The site’s website had said nothing about a burn ban, but she always brought a grill just in case. Though its small size would make mealtimes slower.
The forest itself felt…old. Not with a cheery ‘I wager this spot existed for ages’ way. More akin to a musty, ‘what evil lurks here?’ way. Worse, the roads seemed to twist and disappear for no reason. They got lost a few times before finding the weather-bleached stake with their number planted in a bed of loose soil.
Judy kept her grin. “Welcome to nature!” she said, hopping out of the truck.
Nick’s words faltered as he gazed around. “It’s very…green.”
Judy pulled out the bags with their tents and threw them to Nick, who caught them with a muted “oof!”. “The first thing we do on a camping trip is to create shelter. You can help me, and I’ll help you, alright?”
Her parents had given her one she had loved as a kit: purple with yellow spots. Threading the poles and pounding in the stakes was simple enough, though she wasn’t sure the soil would hold on to the pegs if they got a heavy breeze.
Next was Nick’s. She had told her parents to send her one of the double tents—the one used for pairs and triplets of her younger siblings. However, she soon realized the tent they had packed for Nick was the same size as hers.
As they built up the neon-green tent, Judy’s hopes that she was mistaken lasted until they put in the last peg, at which point she realized Nick’s tent only rose to his lower chest.
Without a word, he crawled inside and lay down. In different circumstances, Judy might’ve laughed herself hoarse at seeing his long feet stick far out from one end and his head lying outside the other.
“Is this…how it normally is, Carrots?”
“No,” she admitted, biting her lip. “My parents must’ve sent the wrong one.”
“Oh.” He wiggled his toes. “I guess I’ll just be catching pinecones during the night.” Then he crawled out of the tent, grinning. “So, we have our shelters. What’s next?”
Judy brought out her grill and started heating some chili she had made at home. As she’d expected, her pot was too big, so they had to heat it up in batches in a small saucepan.
“Maybe we can stick to sandwiches, eh, Carrots?” said Nick after spooning his third batch. “Or anything that doesn’t need heating?”
Night had fallen by the time they were done, and Judy felt too tired to make the s’mores when Nick suggested it.
“Besides, you don’t do s’mores by grill,” she said, waving her paw dismissively.
Nick shrugged. “I don’t see the difference.”
They changed and curled in their sleeping bags (Nick had bought his own, thank Frith), and Judy glanced out the flaps to see shadows wiggling from either end of Nick’s tent.
“You sure you’ll be alright?” she asked.
“I got bugs ready to nibble at my ears and toes, but at least my tail is safe and sound,” came Nick’s voice.
Judy stuck her head out to see if he was serious, and she could see his teeth grinning at her in the darkness. “I’m kidding, Carrots. I’ll be fine.”
“Well, save the jokes for tomorrow—we’re starting early in the morning.”
“Alright. G’night, Carrots.”
“G’night, Nick.”
***
Judy pushed away the foreboding she felt when she woke Nick up at the crack of dawn and realized he hadn’t slept well. His fur looked mussed, and his eyes were red, and he kept scratching his ears and legs where mosquitoes had bitten him.
“You sure we gotta…wake up this early?” he asked through a wide yawn.
“We do if you want fish for breakfast,” said Judy. She dug out the fishing poles and gear, holding them up like trophies.
The fishing grounds were only a short half-mile walk down the road from their campsite. Someone broke the dock, so they had to stand on a piece of land that jutted out instead. There was a whiff of sulfur in the air, as if the greenish water had just let out a very polite burp, but Judy pretended not to notice. Instead, she showed Nick how to work the hook and bait and cast the line. It took a couple of tries, but Nick got the hang of it. Both rods were the old wooden ones her Pop-Pop had used, and they had never failed in catching something.
“Didn’t know bunnies could fish,” he said, watching his bauble float.
“I’m not nearly as good at it as my brothers. And normally it’s catch and release, but I think we can grill a big fish or two for you.”
They sat in silence for several minutes until the fur on the back of Judy’s neck started prickling. She glanced around. A large brown bear wearing only muddy overalls sat with his own fishing pole and basket, but he wasn’t looking at the water. He was staring right at them.
“Uh…Nick?” she said in a low voice.
“Kodiak bear, three o’clock?” The fox didn’t even turn his head. “I see him.”
“Why is he staring at us?
“Do I look like a bear whisperer?”
“I just thought—”
Nick’s pole jerked, interrupting her. “Whoa!”
“You caught something!” she cried, leaping to her feet. “Reel it in! Reel it in!”
Nick started cranking. As they reeled in the fishing line, the pole wavered until it bent nearly double. Judy caught a flash of a silver tail fin and gasped. “It’s huge, Nick! Keep going!”
Then, the pole snapped.
As though knowing freedom was within reach, the fish took off at speed, and Nick—caught off-guard—dropped the pole. Judy attempted to snatch it back, but missed.
They watched the pole float away, then sink out of sight. Judy stared in speechless shock.
“Well, that can’t be environmentally friendly,” Nick said finally, half-smiling.
“Nick, I’m…I’m sorry.” Judy stared at her own unbroken pole, then glanced at where the bear had been. He had disappeared.
The fox glanced at her with a guilty wince. “I think I should be sorry for breaking it.”
“It was Pop-Pop’s and I doubt he remembers he had it.” She tried to pass him her pole. “Why don’t you take this one and I’ll—”
“I think my fishing days are over,” he said, waving his paws. “You keep trying.”
In the end, Judy could boast of catching only two tiny fish, barely a snack for Nick.
When they got back to camp, Judy grilled them on the gas stove anyway, and tried not to linger on how inadequate they were as she gave them to Nick with pan-fried toast. The fish were too small to debone, and Judy tried not to flinch as they crunched between his teeth when he chewed them. His smile and thumbs-up looked rather forced.
Judy nibbled on some pan-heated toast with blueberry jam, and Nick appeared much more enthusiastic about that. So she gave him some.
Morning dragged on, and after clearing and stowing the breakfast things, Judy planted her paws on her hips and beamed at Nick. “Ready for the next part of the Ultimate Camping Experience?”
“Ah, Carrots, you don’t have to, really—”
“We’re going canoeing!”
“More water?” He grinned, but his tail twitched.
“There’s a heron rookery on an island in the center of the lake.” She pointed in its direction, about half a mile away. “The nests are gone, but I bet you’ve never met a heron before.”
“No, and I’m not sure I want to,” Nick admitted.
“Well, me neither, but I’m sure we’ll love them!” She reached for Nick’s paw and half-dragged him back to the edge of the lake, near the piers. Along the shore were several aluminum canoes of various sizes, a little worse for wear, covered in dents and duct-tape patches.
“Those tin cans, Carrots?”
“Trust me, this will be fine,” she said as though she wasn’t harboring the same doubts, trying to find one their size and with the fewest holes.
At first, all seemed well. The canoe bobbed but otherwise stayed afloat. The sun shone, yet did not burn, and the water behaved, except for an occasional gust of wind that rocked the canoe.
“What d’you think, Slick?” she asked, looking back at him with a grin.
Nick didn’t grin back. Instead, he looked rather green.
“Nick?”
He shook his head, then scrunched his eyes shut. “I wouldn’t suggest talking to me, Carrots,” he gasped.
“Are you…? Are you seasick?”
“Apparently…” He gagged, covering his mouth. “Foxes don’t belong on the water.”
Judy didn’t know whether to laugh or—more likely—cry. How? How could someone be seasick on a lake?
Nick gagged again, and guilt gnawed at Judy’s belly. “Do you wanna turn around? We’re only about halfway.”
He swallowed hard. “If I keep my eyes closed, I think I’ll be okay.”
Judy told him to keep rowing his paddle, and she led the way to the island, which now felt much further away than before. She hoped the birds were worth it.
Nick was right that by keeping his eyes closed, he didn’t gag as much. And when they landed on the shore, Nick leapt out of the canoe and collapsed onto the blanket of pebbles, all but kissing the solid land before heaving in huge gasps of air.
This isn’t how it was supposed to be, thought Judy miserably.
She pulled the canoe further up onto the shore, then strolled over to put a paw on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t know either, Carrots,” he said, shaking his head.
Judy got up, reached into the canoe and pulled a bag of crackers from her bag. “I think this will sit better in your stomach.”
“Got any marshmallows?” he asked hopefully.
“No, and they wouldn’t feel good for your stomach either.”
Nick sat up and took the offered snack. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Surveying the island, she saw no trees, only some shrubs, and—worse still—no birds were present.
Nick noticed the same thing. “So…do the birds build nests elsewhere on the island or…?”
“I…I don’t know. The guide didn’t say exactly.” Her gaze rose to the sky, watching the birds of all shapes and sizes soaring above them. “Maybe they’re getting lunch?”
They sat there on the shore for about half an hour, and they only waited that long because Judy didn’t want to push Nick back into the water too fast. Nick declined his sandwich, saying he would wait until they got back. He probably didn’t want to risk more in his stomach.
When he finally suggested rowing back, they hadn’t seen a single bird close up except for some seagulls who hobbled nearby, waiting for them to drop their food with greedy eyes.
As they pushed off, Judy turned with another apologetic smile. “Sorry for making you sick for nothing.”
Nick opened his mouth, closed it, then shook his head. “I’ll save it until we’re across.”
To Judy’s dismay, speedboats were now zigzagging across the water. There were only a few, but they looked gigantic compared to their canoe.
She kept shooting glances at him, and this time he kept his eyes closed from the moment they left the shore.
Halfway down, he emitted a small moan.
“Nick, you okay?” asked Judy.
“Can…can we take it slower, Carrots?” he muttered. “Maybe half a bag of crackers was a mistake.”
“Why don’t you lay down?” said Judy. “I’ll row us to the shore.”
At first he refused, but soon he was curled up on the floor of the canoe. Judy hadn’t been lying when she’d said she could row by herself, but the speedboats were closer now. It took all her strength to avoid them.
She was halfway back to shore when something caught her eye.
“Carrots…?” Nick mumbled. “Why’d you stop?”
“He’s here…” she whispered.
“Who?”
“That bear!”
“The creepy one?” Nick pushed himself up with effort and opened his eyes.
Indeed, in a canoe that looked too small for him, they recognized the same gigantic brown bear from this morning, still wearing his muddy overalls. He stared at Nick and Judy without blinking, and they were close enough to realize how dark his eyes were. Like pits.
Judy noticed Nick shiver, and he wasted no time picking up his paddle and helping her row.
“Aren’t you still feeling seasick?”
“The threat of death makes you reconsider your priorities.”
“But there isn’t—”
Judy’s ears perked, and her eyes widened. Seeing his partner’s expression, Nick turned.
A speedboat carrying several tigers had gotten much closer than she had expected and was closing in fast.
“Row,” Nick said, tight-voiced. “Row right now!”
They pumped with all their might. Surely the splashing would warn them—surely—
No such luck. The speedboat kept barreling through the water. Judy tried yelling at the top of her lungs, but the roar of the speedboat buried her shouts, and the young, shirtless tiger at the wheel didn’t appear to see their tiny canoe at all. Only after one of his passengers, a tigress in a bright blue bathing suit, slapped his shoulder and pointed at them with a scream, did he realize the catastrophe that was about to ensue.
He yanked the wheel hard to the left, almost capsizing his vessel. While the boat missed the canoe, the resulting ten-foot wave didn’t.
It slammed into them like a battering ram, toppling them clean over into the water with a yelp of panic.
For a moment, cold, dirty water filled Judy’s mouth and lungs. Her arms and legs paddled on instinct, and she broke the surface. She gripped the side of the overturned canoe, coughing and sputtering.
“Nick!” she shouted when she couldn’t see him. “NICK!”
Nick emerged nearby, also coughing and looking worse for wear.
“Oh, Nick!” she cried, pushing the canoe towards him. He latched onto the side with a sigh of gratitude. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he gasped, spitting water and throwing a furious glare in the speedboat’s direction as it zipped away. “Buncha…jumped-up…half-drunk…yahoos! Why do they let felines in boats, anyway? They belong here even less than foxes.”
“Some cosmic joke, I guess,” she said with a laugh she didn’t really feel. She snatched her paddle floating beside her and told Nick to grab his own before it floated away.
With some effort, they flipped the canoe, intending to empty it upon reaching the shore. They dumped their paddles inside. Without a way to climb aboard, they’d have to swim alongside it.
“How much did we lose?” asked Nick from the other side.
“Well, our snacks and daypacks are gone. And your sandwich for lunch.”
“Phone?”
“I keep mine in a waterproof case.” She felt her back pocket and–miraculously–her phone was still there. “What about yours?”
“Back at the camp. Figured with my luck, something like this would happen.”
Judy glanced at him, her ears drooping, and not just because they were waterlogged. “Nick, I’m…I’m sorry.”
His expression was hard to interpret. Not angry, just…exhausted. “It’s not your fault, Carrots. Let’s swim to shore and dry off.”
If Nick was seasick this time, he didn’t complain about it. If he were like her, his focus was on grabbing some clean towels and trying not to wish they could light a fire in the firepit.
The ground felt like a cloud of heaven the moment they landed. They all but tossed the canoe with the others (upside-down to prevent the water from pooling) and trudged, shivering, back to camp.
Once there, they wrapped themselves in towels and, once dry enough, Judy heated some water to make cocoa, which Nick took with visible delight.
Judy sat nearby, biting her lip. Given this fluster-cluck of a day, the sensible thing would be to suggest they call it in and head home tonight. But Judy was a tryer—and she wouldn’t quit until Nick had at least some pleasant memories of this trip to look back on.
She had one more thing left on her list.
After checking her phone’s weather app—cloudy, with a thirty-five percent chance of rain—she cleared her throat. “Once we’re dry, we can go on a hike before dinner.”
At Nick’s skeptical look, she added in a rush, “The Rose Trail is for beginners, and it’s only a couple of miles. Half an hour, tops. They say there’s a view that looks beautiful towards sundown.”
He sneezed. “You really want to?” he asked, searching her face.
“Call it the last hurrah.” She gave a smile, trying to appear confident. “It’ll be worth it. Then we’ll leave early in the morning.”
“And s’mores tonight?”
“If there’s time, sure.”
The fox sighed. “Alright, let me get changed.”
Half an hour later, after they had both changed into dry clothes and Judy had studied the trail on the map, they were ready. Nick packed the remaining snacks plus water while Judy secured their sizable medical kit.
At first, the trail seemed fine. The clouds gave the sun a hazy quality, chilling the air. Judy got to point out the different plants and bugs they saw. She didn’t think she would ever forget the look of disgusted fascination on Nick’s face when they passed by a dead tree covered in webbing that held what looked like thousands of tiny spider egg sacs.
Then, without warning, the trail got harder, with steep rises and slippery dips and treacherous twists. The clouds grew thicker and darker, and after half an hour, they still hadn’t arrived at the hill the map promised would be there. What’s more, Judy noticed the signs painted with red flowers that lined their path looked nothing like roses. Concerned, she checked the map.
She realized to her horror that the badly drawn red flowers on the map, which she had assumed were the roses that marked the eponymous Rose Trail, were actually drawings of poppies. Which meant they were actually on the Poppy Trail—an eight-mile advanced trail for experienced hikers.
Worse, the sky darkened, and through the trees she could see iron-gray clouds on the horizon. The telltale sign of an oncoming storm.
Judy checked her phone. The chance of rain had risen from forty percent to thirty-five to eighty in the space of an hour.
“Let’s turn around,” she said after explaining all this to Nick, whose look of exhaustion overtook his general laid-back facade. “We can stay dry in the car until the storm goes through.”
He nodded with clear relief, then turned toward the way they had come.
Perhaps they were both exhausted, but the trail felt longer going back. Neither talked much, and Judy glanced at the sky every few moments. How had she not noticed how fast clouds traveled before?
It took only fifteen minutes before they felt the first drops of rain. Within ten minutes, it was a downpour, soaking them to the bone once more; their teeth chattered. Judy motioned them under a tree, trying to read the map.
BRRRRROOOOM.
Thunder. Not super close, but close enough.
Judy didn’t have many fears, but thunderstorms were one of them.
“We gotta go.” Judy clasped Nick’s paw and tried to hurry down the trail.
“Wait, wait, wait, Carrots.” Nick held her back, looking cold and miserable, but determined. “We c-can’t keep t-t-trudging into n-n-nowhere.”
“We can’t stay here! What if the thunder gets closer?” Judy had heard too many stories growing up of relatives getting struck by lightning in storms like this.
“L-l-look!” Nick pointed through the trees, and her heart leapt at the sight of an old-fashioned log cabin. Better still, lights flickered in the windows.
“Let’s go!”
They all but sprinted towards the light, not caring who owned it. The cabin was massive—whoever lived there must’ve been as big as an elephant. A rocking chair sat on the porch with a big bowl of nutshells beside it, and a bristly mat in front of the door read ‘GO AWAY’.
Ignoring this, Judy and Nick banged on the door with all their strength, hoping whoever was inside would hear them over the storm. They stood there shivering for several moments before it opened.
Judy wondered which god they had offended to deserve this.
The same bear from earlier stood at the doorway, staring down at them with those dark beady eyes, his brow furrowed in annoyance. He had traded his overalls for a pair of warm-looking long johns.
When they didn’t speak for several seconds, the bear got impatient. “Yes?” he demanded with an accented growl. “Vhat do you vant?”
Nick found his tongue first. “Hello there!” he said in the same voice he used when charming witnesses. “My friend and I got lost in this storm, and we could really use a place to hunker down for a bit.”
“Hunker…?” The bear frowned. “You mean vait?”
Judy bobbed her head as another peal of thunder rumbled in the distance. Whatever bad vibe she got off him before, she could ignore them if it meant a chance to dry off.
He pushed a snort through his enormous nose. “Very vell.”
The bear opened the door wider and stood to the side. Nick and Judy glanced at each other before they trudged inside.
A wave of warmth, thick with the scent of beets and garlic, filled Judy with such relief she wanted to cry. The cabin had one room, dim but lively—firelight danced across the log walls and made every metallic edge gleam: a weathered ax hung above the door, an old saw leaning on the wall, a pair of rawhide snowshoes near the doormat, old park maps that had yellowed into illegibility on a shelf. Several walking sticks of various sizes hung above a workshop table, with a few wood shavings scattered around it on the floor. All the furniture looked raw, suggesting hewn by hand rather than bought—sturdy pieces cut straight from the trees outside.
The bear lumbered to one corner of the cabin with a sink, icebox, and a tall cutting table. He took down a couple of flannel dish towels from the wall next to a window and held them out.
“Dry off,” he grunted. “Before you catch cold and die.”
Though they looked tiny hanging from his paw, each of the flannels wrapped around them like beach towels. When a clap of thunder made Judy flinch, Nick grabbed her paw and squeezed it. She squeezed back.
“Thank you,” she said to the bear. “I’m Judy—this is Nick.”
The bear let out an irritable grunt. “Sergey.” He lumbered to the fireplace, where a cast-iron pot bubbled with some kind of red-colored soup above the flames. He gave it a stir with a wooden spoon. “Borscht soon ready. Recipe from old country.” He nodded at a faded color photograph on the mantel, featuring a large family of bears standing in front of a snow-covered home. “You would like?”
They both hesitated before throwing caution to the wind by chorusing, “Yes, please.”
Sergey rooted around the cabinets to find bowls more their size before settling on a couple of tea mugs, which they still needed to hold with both paws. The soup—made with cabbage, beets, potatoes, garlic, and herbs—warmed them in a way the towels couldn’t quite accomplish. After Judy’s last attempt at cooking, it tasted divine.
The bear sat down in his armchair by the fire while Judy and Nick settled down on a rug in front of it with their bowls.
“Are you a park ranger?” Judy asked.
“Nyet,” said Sergey with another grunt. “But they let me live on land, and I keep vatch.”
Judy glanced at Nick. “Were you vatching, erm, watching us?”
“I vatch everyone.”
Nick gave a small laugh. “You might wanna work on your demeanor, buddy—you about scared us half to death.”
The bear frowned. “Fox make joke? If nothing wrong, vhy scared?”
Nick opened his mouth, then closed it.
“I vatch because you look like mammals who get lost in rainstorm.” Sergey waved a gigantic paw at a rain-slicked window. “Running into dangerous zings like blind cubs. Miracle you not hurt.”
Judy stared at the last dregs of her soup. “It was my fault,” she admitted. “The weather app said it would be fine, and I wanted to take Nick hiking.”
The bear snorted. “Tcht! Trust phone over two eyes? Next time, bunny use brain, eh? Or fox open mouth and warn bunny.” He rose to his feet. “If you finish, I vash.”
They passed their mugs over to him, and Judy felt cold again. And foolish. Sergey was right—she hadn’t used the brain Frith had given her.
Once the bear was at the sink, Judy turned to her best friend, ears drooping. “Nick, I’m so sorry,” she said for what felt like the hundredth time. “I know this trip has been an absolute nightmare. And the more things went wrong, the more I wanted to make it right. But all I did was show I’m a horrible cook and I can’t fish and I don’t know when to stop. And I know I said it a lot today but I am s-sorry.” She felt a couple tears leak down her cheeks. “I was s-so excited to show you something you hadn’t seen b-before and give you the b-best camping trip ever and now I wish I hadn't even thought of it…”
“Hey now, Carrots.” Nick reached out to wrap an arm around her shoulder. “Listen, I didn’t come along to have the world’s best camping trip.”
Judy sniffed. “Y-you didn’t?”
“Nope.” He shook his head slowly, as if he found her especially adorable. “I came for the company.”
“I don’t—”
“Whatever situation we get into—even the horrible ones—I just want to get into them with you.” He tapped her nose. “My favorite partner.”
Despite herself, Judy giggled a little through her tears. “I’m your only partner,” she muttered.
“Doesn’t change a thing.” He grinned. “Once we’re drier, we’ll look back at this whole day and laugh.”
Judy smiled and wiped her eyes, resisting the urge to snuggle into his side.
“Besides, I think it’s ending on a high point.” He let go of her and wrapped himself in the towel again. “Warm fire. Full bellies. A bear with a past. Can’t get much better.”
Judy glanced at him as a thought occurred to her. It was a long shot, but…
“Wait here.”
She rose, approaching their host as he finished the last of their dishes. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Yes?”
“Sergey, d’you have any marshmallows?”
***
“I lied, Carrots. This is the high point.”
Judy and Nick held marshmallows the size of their heads over the fire on sticks that were practically branches, watching as they browned. To Judy’s surprise, not only did Sergey know about s’mores, he had enough Moosewell’s Best Marshmallows to last him the next six months.
“Da,” agreed Sergey, breaking up a bit of chocolate. “Best zing in new country.”
Nick glanced at Judy, giving her that grin he reserved just for her. “Thanks, Carrots.”
Judy beamed.
Tomorrow, they’d have to head back to their camp, and it would be a mess if the rain hadn’t washed it away altogether. Then they would return to their crazy lives in Zootopia.
But that was tomorrow.
Right now was perfect.