WildeHood: A Zootopia and Robin Hood Crossover

Chapter 3

Vixen lifted his twenty pound eyelids. He was in a pitch black room, a rope biting into his wrists and ankles. The air held a thick, musty stench of mold, reminiscent of a cellar. A torch was being held so close to him it singed his chin hairs and forbade him from fully opening his eyes.

Eventually, the torch moved away, allowing him to observe the room. Claw marks and cuts from some sort of blade appeared all over him. There were quiet conversations somewhere nearby, but he couldn't focus on them.

Richard, the one holding the torch, came before him. His voice, while trying to remain quiet, was amplified a hundred times by the small space. "You tried to kill me. After I took you in. After everything I've done for you."

Vixen swallowed hard. "Please spare me-"

Richard snapped. "Because of her, and only because of her, I will." Richard pulled a familiar, round, green gem from his sash. "But this has to happen."

The next thing he remembers: dragging through the forest. This wasn't a very Ooh-De-Lally occasion. The torrential rain pounded his head, straight through his hood. His only possessions: the claw torn clothes that partially covered his back, and an old, dusty book that smelled like rotten oranges. Why he had that of all things, he didn't know, but it wouldn't do him any good to read it now. He could barely think straight enough to stand. All he knew is that something had to be done to King Richard.

And thus, another memory had returned to him. Though hazy, incomplete, and half as emotional as it should be, it was progress.

🏹

"Pix! Pix! Something big is about to happen! Pix!" Vixen swiftly pushed the door shut with his back, and clawed the wall behind him on both sides of the root-lined doorway. "That...was too close. It's also the first time I've appreciated how ignorant Richard is..."

An array of colorful glass bottles full of fireflies provided the room with just enough light to see. Most of the round wall was adorned with rickety, three tiered bookshelves he had assembled from twigs and vines, except for a small area reserved for a stone firepit. A single barrel table with a shiny crystal ball on top served as the only other furniture, and his main window to the world.

Pix the fairy, who could simply be
described as a color changing light with wings, flew out of his bottle and straight into his master's face. Vixen brushed him off the ridge of his brow and onto the floor, where he proceeded to nearly step on him with his curved-toe shoes.

"Soo, how was the party?" The fairy's voice was echoey and ghost-like, but his words never seemed to fit the sound.

"Umm...fair, at best. Richard's probably reordered my capture with a hefty reward and I've made no progress finding it, but I did get answers."

"But...how? If you got caught, what did you do? Walk up to Richie and ask him?"

"I didn't have to. It hit me, Pix." He chuckled to himself. "Being that close to him, I remembered King Richard's face when he decided to exile me. He knew the flame he had set. He knew what pain separating me from her would bring. He knew his kingdom would suffer a great loss without me to guide him. Then, there was that incident with the gingerbread man...you didn't hear that! I'm sorry." He clawed a piece of a red gummy out from between his teeth. "I just can't get it off my mind."

He reached to a shelf behind him and pulled out an old, ragged book. It had a brown cover that was engraved with strange markings that all culminated to a circular divot in the center. "My memory's getting better, Pix. As if it knows I'm getting closer to it." He ran his claw down the scar. "It hit me that there was a certain fox at my little ceremony who was charged with keeping it from me."

"You mean...you think Robin has it!?"

"I don't know that he has it, only that he knows where it is."

"Well, how do you expect us to get it out of him? He's not exactly an easy person to get a hold of." He brought his voice down to a sarcastic whisper. "Nor is he very fond of you..."

"It's just like I said earlier. I've found a way to open a new door for us." He glanced back over his shoulder to the crystal ball, "I'll have to bring him to me. And this time, I'll be ready." He stared down with a smile at Pix. "Unfortunately, that will require quite a lot of...the stuff.

"Nuh-uh! Let's face it, foxy!", interrupted the jaunty fairy. "As of now, you're powerless without me, and me says no. If I had legs and arms, they'd be crossed right now!"

Vixen grunted as he struggled to pull a small cage out from under one of the shelves. "Now, Pix, don't-"

"Master, I've told you. I can't just do it whenever. It's a natural process."

He grew an obviously fake smile again and spoke with an exaggerated hiss in his voice. "Well, Pix, this natural process of yours is a big deal to me at the moment. If you can't supply enough dust for this little endeavor, I'm afraid you are of no use to me, and, therefore, I have no reason to keep you around. So it's either you get on it, or get out."

"I'll do what I can, but it'll be a while, weeks maybe, before I can make that much dust," replied the fairy, seemingly unaffected by the threat. "Do we not have any leftover?"

Vixen violently grabbed a burlap sack off the shelf behind him and poured a few glittery flakes into his palm. "No, but I promise this is the easiest option for the both of us. If something does go wrong, though, I always have a backup." He picked up his sword, which had been leaning against the wall for quite sometime. It felt like reconnecting with an old friend as he ran his paw around the leather grip. "This could get exciting."